Somewhere Only We Know
by ZombifyMe
Summary: Leigh Colson has left her home state of Kentucky in search of refuge of the disease that has allowed the dead to rise and feed on the living. DarylxOC
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! So this is my first fanfiction posted to FF and it's also my first Walking Dead story, so be nice please :3**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead, its characters, or the major story line. Leigh Colson, her original associates, and _this_ story line are my own, though. So please, do not steal it. Thanks!**

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><p>"Are you <em>sure<em> you don't want to come, Leigh?" asked Hannah as she hung a silver earring from her right lobe. The girl in question looked up from her textbook with a sympathetic smile and shook her head slowly.

"I'd love to, but you know I have to pass this exam. Maybe next time, Han." Hannah exaggerated a pout but she left her roommate in peace, locking the door behind her. Leigh turned around in her chair, resting her elbows on the desk as she attempted to once again pore over her examination notes.

A senior at the University of Louisville, Leigh was half way to earning her degree in preveterinary studies. Having grown up on a livestock farm, Leigh had adored animals from the very beginning. As a child, she took in a total of eight cats, two dogs, a number of rodents, and even a pigeon that had injured its wing. Her father had been a livestock veterinarian and had taught Leigh almost everything she knew; it was the basis of her dream to work with animals like her father had.

More than half of her notes had been highlighted; her professor, Dr. Lundgren, had been strict and thorough in explaining the final exam. While Leigh had no doubts that she was well prepared, she still pored over the books like her very life depended on it.

It was almost eleven when Leigh glanced at the clock; Hannah surely wouldn't be back until the morning, and for a moment, Leigh wished she'd gone with her roommate to the last dormitory party of the semester. Sighing, she finished chapter thirteen of her notes and stood up, stretching her arms over her head. She hadn't moved from her desk since she'd gotten back from dinner with Hannah, and that had been almost four hours ago.

Changing into a pair of shorts and an old high school t-shirt, Leigh flicked off her desk light and crawled into her bed. She set her alarm clock an hour before her scheduled exam time, giving herself plenty of time to wake up and get ready. Sighing, she sunk into her comforter and allowed herself a decent night's sleep.

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><p>Leigh winced against the sunlight streaming through the single, large window in the room. Her alarm was buzzing in her ear; she slammed her hand down on the button and lay still for a moment, letting her body catch up to her brain in waking up. Once her feet were on the floor, she felt her nerves kick into overdrive, even though she knew she'd pass the exam. Setting up her coffee maker, Leigh grabbed her toothbrush and toothpaste and headed towards the bathroom.<p>

When she came back, she got dressed and added milk and sugar to her coffee. She had half an hour before she needed to leave for her exam, so she decided that a little extra studying couldn't hurt. She didn't bother calling Hannah to ask where she was; it was more than likely that her roommate was passed out in the dorm where the party had been.

At quarter to ten, Leigh packed up her purse and tossed a couple pencils into the bag. Grabbing her keys, she locked the door behind her and headed out. Her phone vibrated in her hand and she looked down at the incoming message from her mother.

_Dad, Carrie, and I all wish you good luck on your exam! 3 Mom_

Smiling, Leigh left the message unanswered and opened the door to the science building. The halls and most of the rooms were empty as she passed through the building to the opposite end. The nerves in her stomach were still fluttering, but this time, there was an unnerving edge to them. She hated to think it, but Leigh had that ominous feeling in the back of her head, like something wasn't quite right.

Her exam room was empty when she walked in; not even Dr. Lundgren was present. Pulling out her phone, she dialed her professor's number, which he'd given to his students in case of emergencies. She glanced at the clock as the dial tone continued to buzz; it was five minutes until her exam, and still no one was here. Dr. Lundgren's phone went to voicemail, so she left a brief message, asking if the exam had been moved to another day. She dialed a fellow student's number as well, but his phone, too, went to voicemail.

Blowing her bangs out of her face, Leigh walked out of the room and down the hall, searching for anyone that could answer her questions. She came across her former biology professor, Mrs. Harmon, as she passed by the mail room. The woman was leaning over the counter, evidently coughing. Her clothes were dirty and ripped in a few places.

"Mrs. Harmon?" Leigh asked, stepping closer to the woman, who'd frozen at the sound of Leigh's voice. "Mrs. Harmon, it's Leigh. From last semester? Where is everyone?" The woman in front of her coughed again, and this time, Leigh watched blood spew out of her mouth. Stopping, Leigh watched as the woman turned around slowly, her eyes fixating on the only other living thing in the room.

Mrs. Harmon looked deathly ill. Her skin had taken on an unhealthy greyish hue, and her eyes were unrecognizable. Her once-brown eyes had become an off-white color, and her pupils were dilated and white throughout. What caught Leigh's attention was the apparent decomposition of the skin around Mrs. Harmon's mouth. Her fingers, which had reached out to grab at Leigh, were peeling at the cuticles and the nails were chipped and cracked.

"Mrs. Harmon!" Leigh cried as her professor suddenly lunged at her. Backpedaling out of the mail room, Leigh kept her eyes on the woman as she followed her slowly, as if Mrs. Harmon was stalking her. Her head cocked to the left and an inhuman gargle tore out of the woman's throat as she made another lunge, almost scratching Leigh's skin with her nails.

Realizing that something was very wrong, Leigh turned and booked it out of the building towards the parking lot. She stopped running as she ran outside, where more people were staggering around aimlessly. Their heads all turned, though, when they caught wind of fresh meat. Leigh began her race to her car, dodging in and out of fellow students and professors.

She reached her car before any of them could grab her and she locked all of the doors before pulling out her phone. Dialing her mother's number, she cursed as it went straight to voicemail. Her father's and sister's phones had the same result. Punching the steering wheel, Leigh sniffed as tears blurred her vision.

Pulling out her keys, she started her car, but screamed when one of those _things_ began banging on the driver's side window. Throwing the vehicle into drive, Leigh peeled out of the lot, taking down the person hanging off her mirror. She barely recognized the face of Ruben Webber, a former classmate of hers, as he hung on for his life. Veering to the right, Ruben flew off the car and skidded across the pavement.

She cried loudly as she sped away from campus, jumping onto the freeway to head back to her parents' house.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Hey guys! So I'd like to thank **allysonshark** for reviewing! I'm glad you're enjoying this! Anyways, I'm trying not to get too hasty with posting chapters, although I would like to keep this as active as I possibly can. I will continue with season 1 of _The Walking __Dead_, and hopefully I can plan it out to continue right up to season 2. If not, then I'll be throwing in some original twists to keep you guys interested until season 2.

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><p>Radcliff, Kentucky was a ghost town in every aspect of the word. All around Leigh, her neighbors staggered about, moaning and groaning as they went. She hadn't stopped crying as she entered her hometown, wondering how the hell the state had become what it was. Was this happening all over the US? The world? Was she the only one who hadn't been infected? Pulling into her driveway, Leigh managed to avoid running into many more of the infected. Dashing into her house, she began calling out for her parents and her sister, but no one responded. She ventured everywhere in the house, but they were nowhere to be found.<p>

The television in the living room had apparently been set on the news channel, but the connection had been lost. Feeling the onslaught of fresh tears, Leigh sat at the counter, staring hard down at the marble. She let herself cry again, this time staying quiet so none of the infected outside would hear her.

When most of her tears had subsided, she wiped her eyes and stood up to begin gathering things she would need to take a very long road trip. As she was packing non-perishable food and drinks into a cardboard box, a sudden shift of something startled her. Dropping the box, she looked around the kitchen for the source of the noise and waiting for it to come again. When it did, her eyes snapped to the pantry. Swallowing in fear, she picked up the baseball bat she'd equipped herself with and held it up, ready to swing at whatever was moving in the pantry.

Licking her top lip, Leigh reached out one hand and flexed her fingers in anticipation. She took a deep breath and grabbed the knob of the pantry door, swinging it open and quickly bringing her free hand back to bat. As she was about to swing, a voice stopped her.

"Wait!" she cried. Leigh, who'd closed her eyes without even realizing it, opened them and looked down at her seventeen-year-old neighbor, Anna. The girl's eyes were wide with fright and Leigh immediately dropped the bat to pull the younger girl to her.

"Anna! Are you all right? Where are your parents?" she asked the smaller girl, brushing her hair out of her face. Tears suddenly brimmed in Anna's young eyes and Leigh sighed, hugging the girl to her. But realization must have jolted Anna awake, for she roughly shoved Leigh away from her.

"You have to leave, Leigh. Your parents…I heard them talking about Atlanta. They said there was some kind of safe zone there, a refugee center. _You have to go!_" Anna hurriedly said, burrowing back into the pantry.

"You're coming with me, Anna," Leigh said, grabbing at the girl's arm, but Anna quickly backed away, shaking her head rapidly. Leigh gasped as the teenager lifted the hem of her shirt, showing off a rather nasty bite mark on her torso.

"One bit me when I was trying to get out. It's the bites, Leigh. Some kind of bacteria. It turns you into an animal. I can't go with you, Leigh," Anna said dejectedly, lowering her shirt. She turned to head back into the pantry and this time, Leigh let her. Sighing and teary-eyed, Leigh turned back to her things and began carrying them outside. As she was packing away everything, a gun shot rang out in the house. Leigh jumped and stared wildly at the house.

The gun shot, though, had drawn the attention of the closest infected people, and they changed directions and started heading for Leigh's house. She leaped into her car, turned the engine over, and peeled out of her driveway and began heading for the interstate. Anna had said that Atlanta was safe; _well then_, she thought, _that's where I have to go_.

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><p>Leigh cursed as she came across a gridlock on Interstate 75. She was just outside Dalton, Georgia after a single day of non-stop driving. Her suspicions had evidently been proved; whatever this disease was, it had clearly spread across the Kentucky border. Taking a long sip out of her water bottle, she stopped her car and stepped out in search of a way around. Using her hand as a visor against the Georgia sun, she easily found a few holes big enough for her car to slip through.<p>

Once she'd crossed that bridge, another quickly presented itself. Her fuel gage was almost down to a quarter of a tank, and she wouldn't get far once she'd gotten out of this traffic mess. Cursing, Leigh came to a stop again and this time, the gas tank in the back of the car came with her. Her father had taught her sister and her, against their mother's will, how to siphon gas out of cars in case the need ever arose. She siphoned about three tanks' worth of gas, filling the car's tank, with a full tank to spare. Setting it back in the trunk, Leigh continued on her way.

She reached the city of Acworth just before sunset and chose to hunker down for the night. It wouldn't help her any if she came across a large group of the infected while driving. She found an abandoned gas station closer to the outskirts of town, where she parked her car and dragged in her sleeping bag and pillow. She'd brought an old camping lamp along and lit it before boarding up the windows and securing the area. It wouldn't do to make any sort of mistake.

She feasted on a lukewarm can of ravioli that night, as well as a few bottles of water to stay hydrated. Falling asleep on the concrete floor wasn't easy for her, and she spent most of the night tossing and turning in her sleeping bag. Finally, though, around what she figured was two in the morning, sleep finally found her and she succumbed to a deep, dreamless slumber.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Hey guys. So I'm trying to keep this story as active as I can, but it's hard when I'm constantly coming up with new ideas in my head! And I'm also trying not to cross story-lines, but it's difficult. I'm also going to try and make every chapter a bit longer without too many time jumps between each one. Anyways, please don't be a silent reader! I love getting feedback and I'd love to hear from you guys about ideas for the story!

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><p>The unmistakable sounds of moaning and gargling reached Leigh's ears early the next morning. The sun was already in the sky, and she guessed the time to be around ten. The sounds of the infected outside woke her up instantly and she quickly gathered her things together. A couple infected were strolling about outside, enough to keep her on edge but not nearly enough to the point of her becoming trapped.<p>

She inhaled and chose her moment to move. She made a mad dash to her car, throwing her belongings into the backseat and rushing to the driver's side. The two infected had caught sight of her and staggered towards the car, but Leigh was faster as she started the ignition and backed out of the small parking lot.

She was back on the interstate in less than twenty minutes. She was just a few miles outside of Atlanta when another gridlock came up, this one much thicker than the previous one. A path through was harder to find, and Leigh cursed when an eighteen-wheeler blocked the rest of the highway. The median wasn't an option either; abandoned cars littered the grass, blocking all passage into the city.

"Goddamn it," she muttered, throwing her car into park. Sighing, she pulled together a backpack filled with only the essentials: all of her water, any non-perishable food she had left, a couple of flashlights, two packs of double-A batteries, and a small handgun she'd found in the gas station. Stuffing the gun into the waistband of her jeans, Leigh set out for the city.

The trek into the city had been simple enough; there hadn't been any infected wandering the mouth of Atlanta, and so far, Leigh had yet to encounter any. That fact didn't stop her from being cautious, though, as she stealthily kept between cars and buildings, mostly avoiding the main street.

She came soon to a department store that hadn't been completely looted; perhaps there was a hunting section of the store. Leigh hadn't grown up with guns, but she knew enough about the mechanics and safety precautions of one, and the handgun tucked into her waistband wasn't fully loaded. Drawing the weapon and stepping cautiously into the store, Leigh was quick and light on her feet, but the mannequins in the store had her jumping at shadows.

A gargling moan came from twenty feet ahead of her and she aimed and fired as soon as the infected woman's head was in clear view. The bullet lodged through her temple, spraying black blood on the shoe boxes stacked behind her. The body fell limp and Leigh stood shaking, the gun still raised and aimed. Behind her, though, three more infected were making their way towards her, the gun shot having drawn them. Muttering under her breath, Leigh cocked the gun again, aiming. Her face paled, though, when she pulled the trigger and all she heard was a small _click_. The chamber was empty.

"Fuck!" she cried, dropping the gun and looking around for any kind of weapon. Before she could get her hands on a broken piece of metal, an arrow whizzed by her head and embedded itself in the head of one of the infected. Almost immediately, a second and a third arrow was fired, taking out the remaining infected in front of Leigh, who was rooted to the spot.

"Are you fuckin' crazy?" came an enraged voice. A man in dirty garb glared at her as he rushed by to retrieve his arrows. "Are you tryna call every damn walker out there?" In the middle of his outburst, three other men had entered the lobby of the department store, though Leigh hardly noticed as she stared blankly ahead of her.

"Calm down, Daryl," said one man as he approached the two. The man called Daryl glared once at his associate before spitting on the tile floor. "Miss, are you all right? Miss?"

Reality seemed to come crashing down on Leigh and she suddenly let out a loud, panicked cry. The eyes of the man in front of her widened and he quickly reached forward to clamp his hand over her mouth.

"Sh, don't scream. Just calm down. You're all right now, y'hear?" he said, pulling the girl up against him. She continued to cry into his shirt, but he didn't seem to care as he continuously looked over his shoulder at the entrance to the store.

After countless minutes, Leigh finally grabbed hold of herself and stepped away from the man in front of her.

"I'm, I'm sorry. I, uh, I've only seen one other up close…" she whispered, still staring at the bodies of the—what had Daryl called them?—walkers on the floor.

Finally, she looked around at the men around her. The dirty redneck was glaring vehemently at her and she quickly shrunk under his stare; beside him stood an African American man who was pinning her with a curious stare, and standing behind the two of them, eyes bouncing between Leigh and the man in front of her, was a small, young Asian man who looked just as frightened as Leigh did.

"Who are you?" Leigh asked when she'd found her voice again. She looked to the man in front of her, pinning him as the "leader" of their little troop.

"My name is Rick Grimes, that there's Daryl, T-Dog, and Glenn," Rick replied easily. Leigh mentally assessed each of them. Rick seemed kind enough; his eyes and face were tired, but showed no sign of hostility or distrust. Daryl was still glaring holes through her, and she decided that it was just his personality. T-Dog smiled lightly and nodded at her, and Leigh mustered a small smile in return. Glenn, though, didn't look like he could hurt a fly. He couldn't have been much older than Leigh was and he didn't look at all fit for the kind of world they now lived in.

"Leigh."

"You bit?" barked Daryl, his crossbow slung over his shoulder. He fixed her with another hard stare and Leigh quickly shook her head.

"No."

"Scratched?" Leigh gave another shake of her head, and the four men seemed to let out the breaths they'd been holding in.

"All right. We have a camp just outside of the city," Rick stated. "There are others, and food, and we can—" He was cut off by the all-too familiar sound of walkers entering the store. Without another word, the five of them made a mad dash for an alternate exit.

Daryl led them through the loading dock, picking off walkers that hung around in the alleys on either side. He was quick to retrieve his arrows and catch up with the other four whenever he fell slightly behind.

"God _damn_ it!" he yelled when they came to a stop on a set of train tracks. Leigh looked at the men in confusion as they rested.

"Where's the van?" asked Glenn, looking around wildly as if the vehicle was simply playing a game of hide-and-seek.

"Merle," Rick muttered. Daryl cursed a second time as they began walking in the direction of their base camp.

"Who's Merle?" asked Leigh as she fell into step between Rick and T-Dog. Daryl tensed considerably behind the trio, but was relieved and—sort of—grateful that no one answered her question.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Thank you to **PsychoBeachGirl88**, **Aihart**, **stuffoflegends**, and **May85** for reviewing the last chapter! Special thanks to **Aihart** for giving me some ideas to work with! ;) So my plan for this story is to get around 30 chapters out of it, hopefully just keeping between seasons one and two. Hopefully, I'll reach 30 chapters just before the rest of season two resumes, so I guess that means I have to get my butt in gear with posting! Anyways, _constructive __criticism_ is always appreciated. Is there anything any of you want to see? Anything I can improve on? Letting me know what you guys what to see/fixed/etc. helps me fit the story to_your_ satisfaction, so please don't be silent!

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><p>Leigh was beginning to wonder just how far from the city Rick and the rest of the group had camped. It was sundown, and they still had yet to find any remote sense of "camp". But the others seemed to know where they were going, and so Leigh hung back behind the group, staying quiet and letting them lead. Unfortunately, Rick wasn't too keen on the silence part.<p>

"Where you from?" he asked, turning his head to glance at her over his shoulder. "Your accent's as thick as ours. Must be close, huh?"

"Radcliff," she replied, hurrying to walk beside him. Next to her, Daryl switched his crossbow from one shoulder to the other, glancing at her sideways.

"And how is old K-Y these days?" His question was snarky and tone wasn't the least bit curious or friendly, but Leigh paid no attention to it.

"Just as bad as Atlanta, I'd guess," she said, ignoring his scoff. From the minute Leigh had heard Daryl speak, she'd known he wasn't a people-person. Standoffish, brash, and more than likely hot-headed, Daryl was the epitome of redneck, and that he wasn't a force to be reckoned with. She also gathered that, by gauging his reactions to the name, this Merle fellow meant something to Daryl, though she couldn't quite say what.

"How'd you get out?" asked Glenn from Rick's left.

"Drove. I was at school when I found out. Guess it saved me taking my last exam." Once again, Daryl scoffed, and Leigh instantly knew that he believed her to be a burden on the group if she couldn't fend for herself. She couldn't quite blame him; in times like these, being skilled in the field of weaponry was crucial to one's survival.

"What were you studying?" Leigh smiled at Glenn's enthusiasm to at least get to know her; it was more than she could say for Daryl.

"Veterinary science."

"Is it anything like human doctors?"

"A little, except I'm more familiar with the bones and anatomy of animals than I am with people," she answered honestly. Though she wasn't completely boastful of it, her knowledge of medical care—even for animals—was a benefit to the group.

The group had come to a dirt road that was almost completely uphill, and Leigh was winded before they'd even reached halfway. By then, night had fallen, shrouding them in complete darkness.

"Gotta pull your own, girly," Daryl chided as he easily strode past her struggling figure. Glaring at his back, Leigh attempted to pick up her pace. As she caught up to Glenn, who seemed be having trouble as well, a series of gun shots mixed with screaming pierced the air and set the group on high alert.

A sudden realization dawned on the men's faces and almost immediately they were running uphill, with or without Leigh. The woman struggled to keep up, her feet catching on rocks and potholes, as they drew closer to base camp. The sounds of terror only grew louder and more urgent as the men pressed on, entering the camp with guns blazing. Left and right walkers were being gunned and beaten down, and there was Leigh, standing helplessly in the bushes as she watched in utter fear as people were being torn apart.

A walker thirty feet away had caught onto her scent, and now had her in its sights. It staggered towards her, and all Leigh could do was follow its ungraceful movements as it closed in. One of its decayed arms stretched out towards her, reaching for her, but just before it could grab hold of her, a gun shot rang out, shattering the frontal lobe of the walker, and it fell forward. Leigh let out a small shriek as she jumped backwards. Daryl appeared moments later, storming up the hill like he was straight out of _Walker, Texas Ranger_.

"You're fuckin' useless, ain't ya?" he snarled, not giving her a chance to answer as he turned away, cocking his shotgun as he went.

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><p>The slaughter only lasted about ten more minutes after Daryl had saved Leigh's life—though he would hardly think to call it saving her. She just stood there, watching as that walker came closer and closer to her, frozen in fear. There was no doubt that Daryl definitely thought she was completely useless now, if he hadn't back in the department store when her gun was empty.<p>

As Leigh looked around the camp the group of survivors had set up, she felt the bile rising in her throat. The bodies of permanently put-down walkers were everywhere, their black blood staining the dirt. Most of them were missing actual faces, having been shot off at some point in the night. However, mixed among the walkers were the bodies of survivors that hadn't been so lucky. A woman lost her husband and another lost her sister. For the time being, no one was concerned with the newcomer in their camp as they went around putting down the dead survivors before they could reanimate.

Leigh watched Glenn sadly as he yelled at Morales and Daryl, ordering that their people belonged in graves, not in a fire pit like the walkers. The young man sounded close tears as he watched the two men change course. After dropping the body, Daryl called back harsh words over his shoulder, and a couple survivors winced.

Sniffing and wiping his nose with his sleeve, Glenn started over towards Leigh with his head down. He muttered a greeting as he sat beside her.

"I'm sorry for your friends," she said. It was the only consolation she could think to give. Beside her, Glenn shrugged.

"I didn't really know many of them that died…except Ed and Amy." The way Glenn said his name let Leigh know that he didn't think highly of the man and she didn't push for details. Then he nodded towards an older woman with short, greyish hair. "That's his wife, Carol, and their daughter, Sophia, is over there. Amy's sister, Andrea, hasn't left that spot all night." Leigh's eyes passed between mother and child, and the lone woman kneeling next to the body of her sister, her heart going out to them. She still wasn't sure what had happened exactly to her family, and for that, she was thankful. She couldn't imagine how the three of them were feeling.

It wasn't until the group had convened, upon learning that one of their surviving members had been bitten sometime in the night, that Rick had pulled Leigh forward. The people she hadn't met pinned her with curious and mistrusting stares.

"This is Leigh. We found her in the department store when we went back for Merle." Daryl fixed Rick with a glare at the mention of the man, whose relationship to the hunter Leigh still didn't know. Rick ignored the look and proceeded to introduce everyone to Leigh, who tried her hardest to remember names and faces.

Following introductions, Rick laid out a plan to head to the CDC, despite how close it was to Atlanta. Leigh kept her mouth shut for most of it, deeming herself unfit to help make such a decision. Little argument arose against Rick's idea; it was what to do with the man who was bitten, Jim that caused words to fly.

"I don't feel safe keepin' him with us," said Shane loudly. Upon meeting him, Leigh had an itching feeling about him, though she couldn't say whether it was good or bad. There was a certain way about him that made Leigh unsure of being around him.

"He's not a monster or some…rabid dog," Rick replied firmly. "The CDC can help." This statement seemed to finalize the discussion and everyone scattered to begin packing up the tents.

"Leigh?" Glenn called as she walked away from the group. She turned her head to acknowledge him. "You can ride in the RV with us, if you'd like. Carol and Sophia are riding with Rick and his family, so there's room."

Nodding, Leigh followed him into the vehicle; he took the passenger seat to act as navigator, so she sat at the table behind Dale, across from the blonde woman, Andrea, whom she hadn't heard speak yet. For the entire morning, Andrea sat by her sister's body, who, unfortunately, had been a casualty of the previous night's attack.

Andrea didn't regard the woman sitting across from her; instead, she focused a blank stare on the scenery outside as the RV began rolling out of the lot.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N****:** Hey guys! So thank you to **SaraBear** and **PsychoBeachGirl88** for reviewing the last chapter! I'm glad you're all digging the fact that Daryl is still a hard ass. Anyways, I've still got a lot planned for this story; I'll be throwing in some original twists as well as keeping some of the show's ideas. Remember guys, _constructive critcism_ helps me to create a story that fits what _you_ want to see! :)

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><p>It wasn't long after the group had left the quarry that the RV sputtered and rolled to a stop. Dale stepped out and removed the grill, stepping backwards as a billow of steam floated upwards, dissipating into the air. Dale took his hat off and waved it back and forth, clearing the air so he could see.<p>

"I told you that hose wasn't going to last," he said pointedly to Rick, who was staring at the grill of the RV.

"Gas station up ahead, could be some stuff we could use," said Shane, holding a pair of binoculars to his eyes. "Want me to drive ahead and see what I can find?"

"Yeah, and I'll go along, too," quipped T-Dog, nodding at Shane. The two prepared to leave just as another woman ran off the RV, claiming that Jim wasn't doing so well.

The decision had been made to let Jim choose what he wanted, and in the end, he asked to be left behind. Rick helped him up the small slope off the side of the road, leaning him against a tree. From where Leigh stood beside the RV, she could see Jim's mouth moving with a small smile on his face. She looked at her feet as the group began saying their goodbyes; she hadn't known the man, and therefore saw that she had no right to partake.

Leigh watched as Daryl was the last one to turn around and head for his truck. He had Jim held eye contact for a few minutes, and Leigh determined that it was the redneck's own way of apologizing when Jim nodded at Daryl. When he turned back around, he caught Leigh watching him and his lip curled up in a sneer. He said nothing as he walked back to his truck. Clearing her throat Leigh stepped onto the RV, and the caravan was off again.

Glenn watched Jim for a few moments as they drove by; he hated the thought of leaving someone behind, but he also knew that they couldn't possibly allow him to suffer anymore by keeping him with them. He knew that soon, Jim would succumb to the fever, and then shortly after, the fever would bring him back, but they would all be long gone by then. It was disheartening, losing a member of their survival group.

He glanced back at Leigh, who sat silently and staring out the window. She hadn't spoken to anyone since they'd left the quarry. It hadn't worried him that much; she seemed like a very introverted person, one who chose to observe rather than participate in whatever the group was doing. He watched as Andrea suddenly sparked her interest; the blonde must have finally spoken. Leigh smiled softly at whatever the other woman had said, and it was clear that they were involved in casual conversation. A couple short laughs escaped both women, but hesitant, wary looks passed across their faces, as if laughing in a time like this was wrong.

"Penny for your thoughts?" asked Dale suddenly, startling Glenn out of his thoughts. The younger man stared at the driver for a moment, wondering if he should voice his thoughts out loud. He knew, though, that as soon as he mentioned Leigh's name that Dale would get to thinking like every man his age did.

"Just…thinking," he finally answered, turning around to face forward in his seat. He avoided Dale's gaze and trained his out the window, silently telling Dale that he didn't want to talk about it.

"What were you studying?" asked Andrea, twirling a silver ring on her finger. The woman had finally spoken after almost an entire day of staying silent, and she'd asked Leigh about herself. Leigh answered, knowing that it was a way for Andrea's mind to stay away from thoughts of her sister.

"Veterinary sciences. I wanted to be a vet like my dad." Leigh averted her gaze as the mention of her father came up. She wouldn't condemn Andrea for it, but Leigh severely hoped that the woman wouldn't ask about her family. Fortunately, Andrea recognized the look on the younger woman's face, having worn the same expression before, and didn't press for any details.

"So how did you come to meet up everyone?" asked Leigh as she sipped lightly from a bottle of water. Andrea looked away, but Leigh recognized the look as an expression of remembering.

"Amy and I," she smiled sadly at her sister's name, "we were taking a road trip. Our dad had finally agreed to let Amy go. She was twelve years younger than I was, the baby of the family. So we packed up our things; we were headed for Florida when the shit hit the fan." Leigh nodded and cleared her throat.

"I was, uh, heading in to take my last final of the semester, but the room was empty. Not even my professor was there. So I went looking around for anyone, and I found my old biology professor, but she looked like something out of hell. She, uh, she tried to bite me but luckily I got away. When I went out into the parking lot, there were maybe fifty more of them, but they weren't blocking my car so I ran as fast as I could and got the hell out of there," Leigh replied, knowing that Andrea would be looking for some kind of collateral in return of telling her own story.

"I don't understand how this could have happened," Andrea murmured with a sigh. Her gaze swept over the table idly as the RV rolled over a pothole, almost knocking an unsuspecting Leigh to the floor. Andrea was clearly trying to hold back a laugh, but she snorted and it was all over. The two women laughed as if they hadn't in years, feeling the relief of a short-lived happiness as they placed hands on the shoulder of one another.

From the front of the RV, Glenn turned around to watch the commotion, finding himself smiling along with the women, in spite of not knowing what had caused them to laugh so freely. He smiled at Dale, and soon, the laughter had reached the entire RV.

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><p>It wasn't long before the caravan stopped a block away from the CDC, and everyone shared a gasp as they took in the surrounding area. Leigh held onto Andrea and Glenn as her gaze swept over the bodies littering the street. The smell was horrendous, like decaying flesh mixed with any other rotten smell one could think of.<p>

"All right," said Rick as he came up beside the RV group. "Let's stay quiet and quick. Let's go."

He led them through the maze of bodies and Leigh and Andrea covered their noses with their sleeves, trying to block out the smell. Glenn had taken off his hat and pressed it to his nose as well. Leigh's eyes dropped to a decaying soldier on her left and she quickly closed her eyes, refusing to see the horror that the disease had done to people. Beside her, Andrea frowned at the soldiers with bullets in their foreheads and temples and a dark thought passed through her mind. Leigh's tugging on her hand forced her away from the thoughts, though, and they pressed on. Once they'd reached the metal doors, Rick and Shane began searching for a way in. When the doors wouldn't budge, Shane voiced his hopelessness.

"There's no one here, Rick," he said, placing a firm hand on the man's shoulder. Rick shoved him off and banged on the doors, startling everyone as a few walkers began to appear.

"Walkers!" called Daryl as he prepared his crossbow. Leigh clung to Andrea and Glenn, wishing that Rick would stop making so much noise, wishing that they'd have enough speed to all get back to the vehicles safely, wishing that none of this had happened in the first place.

But there was no hope for any of those wishes as Rick continued to bang on the doors. Daryl had taken out the few walkers that had shown themselves, but more were trickling in, their chance of getting back to the vehicles dwindling with every step.

"The camera, it moved!" Rick suddenly exclaimed, staring up in the corner where a white camera had been hooked up. The group turned back to him, but Shane quickly doused Rick's hope by wrapping an arm around the older man's waist and tugging him backwards. But Rick refused to budge as he yelled at the camera.

"You're killing us!" he cried. Leigh felt oncoming tears as she watched the walkers gaining ground on the group. Daryl had stopped firing his crossbow, exchanging it for a shotgun as he open fired. T-Dog and Glenn had joined him, and Leigh kept a tight grip on Glenn's t-shirt as he stood in front of her. No matter how many walkers they took down, the noise would draw even more to them; there was no way they would reach the vehicles now. Leigh allowed the first tear to fall, but before more could follow in its wake, a bright light suddenly shone behind her.

Everyone stopped moving as they turned around; the doors had opened! Without wasting another minute, everyone made a mad dash for the inside. The doors fell shut behind them with a loud rattle and a final clang as they hit the ground. It was silent as everyone looked around at the main lobby of the CDC, but Leigh froze as she caught sight of a man wielding an automatic weapon and pointing it right at them.

"Anybody infected?" he called. Rick kept his eyes on the newcomer and didn't completely lower his gun as he told the man about Jim.

Leigh watched as the two men exchanged words, and she worried for a few moments that the man would turn them outside and refuse to help them. But she expelled a breath when the man agreed to let them stay at the expense of a blood test for everyone.

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><p>Inside the CDC, there was a small kitchen, where Leigh helped Carol and Andrea prepare a feast for them all. The man, Dr. Edwin Jenner, had granted them permission to use whatever they liked and gave them free rein of the kitchen. Once dinner had been served, Jenner surprised everyone with numerous bottles of alcohol. She couldn't fight back a smile as Daryl made a quick grab for a bottle for himself, tugging the cork off with his teeth. He waited while everyone else was poured a glass, even Carl, whose mother, at first, protested.<p>

The group watched as Carl took a small sip of the wine, grimacing at its taste before setting the cup back down. Leigh laughed with the rest of them and sipped from her own glass. She hadn't normally made a habit of drinking before the world went to shit, but now that it had, she didn't see a little harm in getting at least a little tipsy.

Her attention was drawn to Glenn and Daryl; the redneck had scrunched up his face and ordered the younger man to keep drinking.

"I wanna see how red your face can get," he sneered jokingly; Glenn managed an uneasy smile in return but drank anyways. Leigh smiled at the sudden thought that, for once since she'd been with this group, everyone was getting along.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** So I think I'm just going to keep each chapter posted as I write them so then it's just easier for me to update. Anyways, this chapter and the next are probably the only chapters of season one that are going to stick almost exactly to the show. Other than that, it's pretty much going to be all original stuff.

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><p>Later that evening, after a long, hot shower, Leigh had snuck away with a bottle of wine, nursing it every couple of minutes. She stumbled down the hall, giggling and sipping away like some party-crazed college student. Leaning against the wall, she allowed herself a few minutes to wait for the world to stop spinning before she continued to her room, bumping into the walls as she went.<p>

Just before she came to her room, the door beside it flew open and an angry, drunken Daryl stepped out. She stopped, startled, as his eyes found hers and a glare that could rival the devil's crossed his face.

"Try makin' more fuckin' noise, why don't ya?" he growled, stepping closer to her as he pointed a finger in her face. Leigh swallowed at his close proximity, which he didn't seem to notice.

"S-Sorry," she stuttered, attempting to step past him. However, he moved as she did, and she shrunk under his leer.

"Where the fuck did you come from?" he asked rhetorically. "The fuck can you do for this group? Huh? You're a fuckin' vet. It look like we got animals needing taking care of? So the fuck you doin' here then? Fuckin' useless, is what ya are. Can't even shoot a fuckin' gun straight." Leigh didn't meet his eyes as he spoke, despite knowing that Daryl was well past trashed. He huffed down at her, his breath reeking of the wine they'd drank, before he turned around to stumble back into his room.

"And stop makin' so much fuckin' noise!" he hollered before he slammed the door closed. Leigh winced as it shut, frozen to the floor for a few moments.

She tried not to let Daryl's words sink in, but in a way, he was right. Her medical skills only went as far as animals, not humans. And she hadn't had all that much experience shooting guns, but at least she knew the basic concept, right? Nonetheless, it was clear that everyone in this group had a job; Daryl was the hunter, Rick was the leader, Carol, Lori, and Andrea took care of the laundry, and the others took turns keeping watch. So what _could_ Leigh really do? She could always help the women with the "housekeeping" chores, but what if she was needed for something else?

She could always ask Rick to teach her how to properly shoot. It couldn't hurt for her to pull her own weight in the group, especially after they'd been kind enough to take her in.

Having sobered almost completely, Leigh cast a glance at Daryl's closed door before shuffling off to her own room. She was asleep almost instantly once her head hit the pillow.

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><p>The next morning, Leigh woke up with a slight pain in her head, though it wasn't as bad as Glenn's when he walked into the dining hall. She smiled sympathetically at him as he held his head tightly, emitting a groan every few minutes.<p>

"Please," he said to everyone at the table, "don't ever let me drink that much again." The group chuckled and T-Dog began handing out plates of powdered scrambled eggs.

The rest of the group filed in one by one; Daryl was the last to arrive and, while Leigh doubted he remembered anything from the night before, she didn't look at him once. His words were still echoing in the back of her head; she initiated conversation with a very hung-over Glenn to keep them at bay.

"I was a deliver boy for a pizza company," he told her, wincing as his head pounded again. Leigh smiled and told him stories of her childhood to keep him from speaking and worsening his headache.

Meanwhile, Daryl was gauging Leigh across the table. While he couldn't remember the finer details, he knew that he'd run into her last night, and by the way she avoided his gaze like the plague, he hadn't said anything pleasant if he'd spoken at all. She was an odd one, that was for sure, and she hung around Andrea and Glenn as if she was attached to them by a leash. She didn't speak often, but when she did, her words were never in the negative, and she almost always brought a smile to someone's face. Daryl huffed as he downed his orange juice, tearing his eyes away from the new girl. Merle would have a fit if he knew his brother was putting more speculation into a woman than how big her chest was and how good she would be in bed.

Leigh glanced at Jenner, who sat further away from the group as he watched them socialize. He'd done it the night before, as well, only sitting at the table for the meal and a glass of wine before he retired for the night. He was a strange man, one who didn't normally interact with anyone in the group other than Rick on his own volition. He answered questions from others in the group, but his voice was strained and he got right to the point.

After a couple suggestions by Andrea and Dale, Jenner led the group to the computers. He stood before one and typed a few keys, calling out to the main computer, VI.

"Give me a playback of TS-19," he said. The screen above them flickered to life, and a moment later four images of what was clearly a human skull appeared.

"Few people got to see this," Jenner said, a dark edge to his voice. "Very few." A larger image of the skull appeared. He called out another order to VI and the screen moved again, this time enhancing its view on the brain. An array of bright, flashing lights flickered across the screen.

"What are those lights?" Shane asked, though he hardly seemed interested in what was happening.

"It's a person's life," Jenner replied as if it were obvious. "Experiences, memories, it's everything. Somewhere, in all that organic wiring, all those ripples of light, is you. The thing that makes you unique and human."

"You don't make sense?" Daryl chided sarcastically, crossing his arms as he watched Jenner. Leigh glanced at him, but only for a second before she looked back up at the screen. "Ever?"

"They're synapses," Leigh answered before Jenner could. Everyone's eyes snapped to her, but she continued watching the lights as they moved across the screen. "Electric impulses in the brain that carry all the messages." Jenner nodded.

"They determine everything a person says, does, or thinks from the moment of birth to the moment of death," he added, staring wistfully at the impulses.

"Death? That's what this is?" Rick asked, eyeing Jenner as he stepped closer. "A vigil?" Jenner nodded. From beside Leigh, Andrea stepped forward, her eyes shining with tears. She seemed fascinated by what was playing on the screen.

"This person died? Who?" Leigh took a few steps to wrap an arm across Andrea's shoulders comfortingly as Jenner replied.

"Test subject nineteen. Someone who was bitten, infected, and volunteered to have us…record the process. VI, scan forward to the first event."

"It invades the brain like meningitis. The adrenal glands hemorrhage, the brain goes into shut down, and then the major organs." Suddenly the brain went black and Leigh closed her eyes. "Then death. Everything you ever were or will be…gone." Jenner spoke with such hopelessness in his voice that it raised chills on Leigh's spine. She tightened her grip on Andrea's shoulder as she felt the blonde woman tremble.

Then, VI scanned to the second event, and suddenly a red light flickered at the base of the brain stem.

"It restarts the brain?" asked Lori in confusion.

"No, just the brain stem. Basically it gets them up and moving. The frontal lobe, the human part, that doesn't come back. The _you_ part. Just a…shell driven by mindless instinct." TS-19 began moving on the screen, when suddenly the familiar shape of a handgun entered the screen. There was a brief flash, and the subject's brain now had a clear trail through it.

"Oh God, what was that?" asked Carol. Leigh swallowed and looked down.

"He shot his patient in the head," Andrea replied. Jenner called for VI to power down the main screen and work stations, and moments later the computers and screen went black.

"You have no idea what it is, do you?" Andrea's tone was accusatory, and Leigh let go of her shoulders in case the woman got angry. Jenner didn't meet her eyes.

"It could be microbial, viral, parasitic, fungal…"

"Or the wrath of God?" said Jacqui, whom Leigh hadn't heard speak since they'd left Jim behind.

"There's that." Then he went on about losing communication with other facilities.

"So what you're saying is that there's nothing left anywhere, right?" Leigh sighed and glanced around at everyone and wasn't surprised to see that they shared identical expressions of bleakness.

"Man, I'm gonna get shitfaced drunk…" Daryl murmured, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. "Again."

"Dr. Jenner, I know this has been taxing for you, and I hate to ask one more question, but that clock," he pointed roughly at a huge clock, whose timer was counting down, "it's counting down. What happens at zero?" He pinned Jenner with an expectant, pointed stare, as if he were scared to know the answer.

"The…" Jenner stopped, eyes flickering back and forth for a moment, before he spoke hurriedly, "basement generators run out of fuel." Leigh furrowed her eyebrows, wondering why Jenner seemed to hesitant at first to answer.

"And then?" she asked, but Jenner didn't answer her. "VI, what happens when the power runs out?"

"When the power runs out, facility-wide decontamination will occur."

"Oh God," whispered Leigh, drawing the attention of most of the survivors. The power cut moments later.

"Jenner, what's happening?" asked Rick urgently.

"The system's cutting all unnecessary power." With a bottle of vodka in his hands, Jenner went on talking about the French, how they were the last ones he'd heard from. He didn't say much more than that, but that was enough to anger and frustrate the group.

"Lori, get our things. We're getting out of here. _Now_."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** Thank you guys so much for favorite/alert/whatever, but I have to ask, if you're going to favorite/alert, please leave a review! What am I doing well with? What do I need to improve on? Also, what do **you** want to see happen in this story? If it fits with my general story line, I can probably work it in somewhere! Remember, I'm writing this _for you_ and reviews help me so much.

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><p>The CDC was a mess of people, bags, and crying children as everyone struggled to get everything packed. It hadn't taken much convincing, especially when a loud alarm rang out through the building, terrifying everyone. The main screen had turned on again and began counting down from thirty minutes.<p>

"Thirty minutes to decontamination," warned VI. Jenner had stepped away from the main computer to another. Leigh couldn't see just what he was up to, but a moment later the big metal doors went up, locking them all inside.

"Did you just lock us in?" Glenn asked, his voice shaking with fear. Jenner ignored him. "He just locked us in!"

Everything went chaotic; Daryl made a move for Jenner, who sat in front of the computer with a live feed of what was happening on screen.

"Jenner, open that door now," Rick ordered, his jaw clenched.

"There's no point. Everything topside is locked down." Jenner spoke so casually that Leigh considered making a dive for him herself. "The emergency exits are sealed."

"What happens in twenty-eight minutes?" When Jenner didn't answer, Rick kicked the chair he was sitting in and repeated his question, angrier this time. Jenner shot from his seat.

"Do you _know_ what this place is?" he yelled. "We protected the public from very nasty stuff! Weaponized smallpox, Ebola strains that could wipe out half the country! Stuff you don't want getting out, ever!" Jenner was hysterical as he pointed to each survivor in turn. His voice echoed off the walls as he expressed his frustration, and after a few paces back and forth he seemed to calm down.

"In the event of a catastrophic power failure and a terrorist attack, for example, HITs are deployed to prevent any organisms from getting out."

"Oh Christ," cursed Leigh.

"HITs?" asked Rick.

VI spoke a moment later, "HITs, high-impulse thermobaric fuel air explosives, consist of a two-stage aerosol ignition that produces a blast wave of significantly greater power and duration than any other known explosive except nuclear. The vacuum-pressure effect ignites the oxygen between 5,000 and 6,000 degrees and is useful where the greatest loss of life and damage to structures is desired."

"Sets the air on fire," Jenner reiterated, a dream-like expression on his face. "An end to everything."

Shane and Daryl had taken to the door with fire axes and were banging at them angrily, trying to tear them open. Meanwhile, Leigh and the others sat on the floor, Carol, Lori, and their children were crying, and Leigh herself felt on the brink of tears.

"You should have left well enough alone. It would have been so much easier," Jenner said, as if it were some comfort to them all.

"Easier for _who_?" Leigh snapped. Her patience had just about run thin with Jenner.

"All of you. You know what's out there: a short, brutal life and an agonizing death." Suddenly he pointed at Andrea and Leigh's eyes grew cold. "Your sister, what was her name?"

"Amy."

"Amy. You know what this does. You've seen it. Is that really what you want? Is that what you want for your wife and kids?"

"I don't want _this_," Rick spoke firmly, gesturing angrily. Just then Shane came up to the platform.

"Can't make a dent," he said dejectedly, though there was still a hard edge of anger in his tone.

"Those doors are designed to withstand a rocket launcher." Leigh ground her teeth at Jenner's tone and stood up just as Daryl headed for Jenner with the axe.

"Well your head ain't!" She helped to restrain the angry man along with Rick, Dale, and T-Dog, and the four of them finally got him to back up. Jenner rose from his chair.

"You _do_ want this," he suddenly said to Rick. "Last night, you said you knew it was just a matter of time before everybody you loved was dead." Everyone's eyes snapped to Rick, who seemed to have gotten himself into a jam. The group looked at him in awe, and Lori's heart just about broke.

"I had to keep hope alive, didn't I?" he tried to reason.

"There is no hope." Leigh's fist twitched at her side. "There never was."

"There's always hope," she spoke firmly, watching Jenner as he stared her down. "Maybe it won't be you, maybe not here, but _somebody_, _somewhere_."

"What part of 'everything's gone' do you not understand?" Andrea snapped at Leigh. The young student simply stared blankly at Andrea, and she knew already that Andrea had lost hope like Jenner.

"I'm not giving up," she replied, her teeth ground together. She looked back at Jenner and tried a different approach, and her angry expression fell. "Please, don't keep us here, not when we still believe there's hope left. That's all we're asking for—a chance. Please don't take that away from us."

Jenner eyed her for a moment before he sighed, turned, and suddenly the door came down. Everyone moved fast to get their things together. The clock had wound down to ten minutes. Leigh didn't look behind her as she took the hand Glenn held out to her and ran as if her life depended on it. Daryl and Shane ran ahead with the axes as they reached the lobby, but again, the glass wouldn't break.

"I think I have something that might work," Carol said. Shane scoffed.

"I don't think a nail file's gonna do us any good, Carol." Leigh glared fiercely at him as Carol pulled a grenade out of her bag.

"I found it in your pocket when we were doing laundry." Rick grabbed the grenade and ordered everyone to get down. Leigh ducked behind the stairs as Rick pulled the pin.

The ground shook with the force of the explosion, and the heat was almost unbearable as they ran through the shattered window. Leigh wasn't sure exactly how much time had been left on the clock. Ten minutes? Had it been that long already? She felt a pain in her side as she ran, but it was sheer fear that kept her moving. Shane and Daryl were taking down walkers in front of them, clearing a path to the vehicles. As one, once again, set its sights on Leigh, she froze, rooted to the spot behind a stack of sandbags the army had set up.

She watched the walker as it closed in on her, its bottom jaw missing and its tongue dangling and flapping wildly. She couldn't move, even as her brain willed her legs to start running again. And again, Daryl appeared behind the walker, bringing the axe down on its skull. He ripped the weapon from the decayed flesh with an unattractive squelching sound before he ran at her, fury in his eyes.

Everything happened so quickly. As she was pulled to the ground, she watched the sky turn orange as the CDC was finally blown to smithereens. Daryl's body shielded hers, though she still felt like her skin was on fire. Frightened tears pooled in her eyes as she lay perfectly still. She felt Daryl lift his head to check their surroundings before he flew off of her, glaring down at her.

"Can't you fuckin' do _anything_?" he bellowed at her as he started running for his truck. She sat up slowly, but once she caught sight of the nearing walkers, she was on her feet and breaking for the RV. Dale and Andrea were right behind her, and the caravan peeled away from the burning building.

It took Leigh a few minutes to settle down from the shock, and when she did, she looked around the RV. Glenn was in the passenger seat again, with Dale driving, and Andrea sat on the floor with a haunted look in her eyes. Jacqui was the only one missing in their group.

"Where's Jacqui?" she asked unthinkingly. Glenn met her eyes sadly and shook his head once; Leigh brought a hand to her mouth and bit down on a knuckle as the tears finally broke loose.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** Thank you guys for the reviews/alerts/favorites. Be sure to leave a review if you favorite/alert. I thrive on your advice guys.

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><p>The original plan of Fort Benning, Georgia had been set into motion, and the ride in the RV was silent. Andrea hadn't moved from the floor and her expression didn't change. Not even Glenn tried to lighten the mood like he usually did. The air was far too heavy in the small space of the kitchenette, and Leigh suddenly felt very, very claustrophobic.<p>

"Dale, can we stop? I need some fresh air," she called to the older man. He looked in the rearview mirror at her, noticed her pallid expression, and nodded before he pulled over onto the shoulder.

Leigh was the first one out, bent at the knees at the edge of the freeway, greedily taking in as much air as she possibly could. Her heart was beating out of control, so loud she could both hear and feel it in her ears. Her mind was a jumble of incoherence, spinning rapidly. She felt dizzy, sick—oh, so sick. As she heaved, she felt a hand at her back. She didn't need to glance back to know it was Glenn; he pulled her hair off her shoulder and let her throw up whatever was in her stomach.

Dale, from the front of the RV, watched her with a frown on her face when Daryl rumbled up on his motorcycle, the sound loud and bouncing off the trees to the right and the hills to the left.

"Big gridlock up ahead," he said, his eyes momentarily fixed on Glenn and Leigh on the side of the road.

"Can you find a way through?" Dale asked him, removing his hat to wipe the sweat from his brow. Daryl nodded and revved the engine once before pulling away. Dale sighed and meandered over to Leigh, who had straightened but was still holding a hand to her mouth.

"Are you all right?" he asked in that fatherly tone. Leigh smiled at him and nodded, but her sickly expression did almost nothing to console him.

"Just feeling a little…oh God." She bent over to dry-heave in the grass and Glenn once again pulled her hair back, tying it off in the ponytail holder Leigh passed up to him.

Daryl returned moments later. "There's a space big enough for the vehicles to get through. Not sure about what's further up. Guess we'll see." Dale nodded and they called for everyone to saddle up. The RV fit perfectly between the abandoned cars, but further up there was another blockade that would require pushing to clear the way. Dale stopped the RV and everyone filed out again.

"Forage what we can. Go in pairs. No one goes anywhere alone," Rick said, coming up behind the RV group. He had his hands on his belt in that authoritative fashion and everyone picked a partner before heading in both directions. Leigh walked with Glenn and they came across Shane and a Poland Spring truck. The police officer lifted the hatch and a dreamy look came over his face.

"Hey Glenn, care for some water?" he asked as he pulled the top off one of the gallons. Exchanging smiles that could rivals kids on Christmas, Glenn and Leigh raced for the gallons, taking turns drinking from it. Once they'd drank their fill, they helped Shane get them to the RV and the station wagon.

Continuing on, they found first aid kits, non-perishable food, canned goods, bottles of soda, flat most likely, and Leigh even let out a laugh when she pulled a six-pack of beer out of a cooler in the back of a pickup truck. Glenn looked over at her with piqued interest, and he smiled when she held up the beer.

"I think Daryl will appreciate that," he laughed, gesturing to the case.

Daryl. Leigh hadn't forgotten what he'd done earlier that day at the CDC. From the moment she met him, Daryl had been self-absorbed, looking out for only himself, and she had been okay with that. Times were tough and you had to cover your own ass. Then why did he risk his own skin just to protect her? She reminded herself to thank him when she brought him the beer.

As Leigh rummaged through a minivan, she felt a sudden wet, coldness run up her back, and she let out a little screech as she turned to find Glenn laughing, a Super-Soaker in his hand. He had a hand over his mouth as he shook with laughter. Mock glaring, Leigh made a dive for the gun and the two proceeded with a game of Tug-of-War, Leigh gripping one side of the gun and Glenn holding desperately onto the other. Before a winner could be decided though, Rick came running up, gesturing for everyone to get underneath a car. Dropping the gun, Glenn placed his hand on Leigh's back and dropped her to her knees next to the minivan, letting her crawl under while he kept watch.

The distinguishable sound of walkers reached his ears and he quickly scrambled under the van behind Leigh. As the moans grew louder, Leigh began shaking and she covered her mouth when a cry almost escaped. Beside her, Glenn frowned and took hold of her hand in a comforting gesture, giving it a squeeze as the first of walker feet passed by the cars.

Time slowed down as the herd ambled down the highway and it seemed like ages before Glenn shuffled out from under the car and helped Leigh to her feet. But the storm hadn't cleared as the pair of them and Shane headed forward, where Carol was watching the woods in tears. The trio took off at a run, skidding to a stop beside everyone.

"What happened?" Leigh asked.

"Sophia…" Carol cried, reaching a hand desperately out for her daughter.

"She got spooked and a pair of walkers saw her and chased her into the woods," Lori answered in more detail, hugging Carl to her side. "Rick and Daryl ran after her."

"Jesus…" murmured Glenn as he adjusted his hat.

"I need some help!" called Dale from the RV. Leigh and Glenn turned, but once they saw the situation they jogged over.

"What happened?" she asked the older man, taking T-Dog's arm in her hands. He winced at the movement but Leigh hardly paid attention as she assessed the wound. Dale had been trying to wrap a tourniquet around his injury to quell the blood flow, but T-Dog had done a number on his arm.

"Cut my arm on a car door," T-Dog ground out through clenched teeth.

"I need a suture to close the wound…" Leigh said, looking at Dale. He had a blank stare on his face.

"I don't have anything like that in my kit. All I have is a bit of antibiotic ointment and some gauze pads." He shrugged helplessly as he squeezed T-Dog's shoulder.

"That'll have to do until we find a needle. Glenn, can you keep pressure on this? Dale, I need that kit." The older man hurried into the RV and emerged quickly, tossing the plastic kit to Leigh's open hands. Digging through it, she rushed to apply the ointment to the gauze pad and strapped it tightly to T-Dog's flesh with surgical tape.

"Here, take some Advil," she said, handing T-Dog two caplets and a water bottle. He downed both quickly and nursed the water bottle.

Rustling of the underbrush on the side of the road put everyone on alert, and the group let out the breath it'd been holding as Shane appeared, alone.

"Sophia?" Carol asked. She hadn't stopped crying and Leigh was worried sick for both mother and child.

"Rick and Daryl are still lookin'," he responded stiffly as he stepped over the guardrail. Carol just about broke down as Lori glared fiercely at Shane before gathering the grieving woman into her arms. Leigh watched Shane as he picked up a water bottle and downed nearly half of it in one sip.

Leigh wasn't sure how she could describe Shane, though she couldn't exactly due to the fact that the man had barely said anything to her. From what she'd picked up, though, Shane was built better for this world, this apocalypse, than anyone else in the group, with the exception of Daryl. And, judging by her reactions to him, Shane and Lori had history, and while she was curious, Leigh knew what went on between the two of them wasn't her business. But she vowed that as soon as Shane's personal demons affected how the group survived, she wouldn't hesitate to open her mouth like she had at the CDC. She wasn't one for confrontation much, but when the time called for it, Leigh's tongue was quick and sharp.

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><p>Rick and Daryl didn't return until the sun had set, and, once again, Carol rushed out to meet them and once again feeling the strain of disappointment. Rick, in an attempt to console her, promised that they'd continue looking the next morning. As the two parted, Carol to the RV and Rick to his wife, Leigh rushed after him, placing a hand on his arm. He turned to regard her.<p>

"I want to help you tomorrow," she said, continuing when he opened his mouth to protest, "Please. I sit around all day with nothing to do except scavenging. I want to pull my own weight, _need_ to even, just so I don't feel like I'm taking you all for granted." She let her words sink in, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as he thought it over. Finally, he nodded and a smile grace Leigh's face.

"All right. I'll give you a bat. We're heading out early tomorrow, so be ready." As a farewell, he tipped his hat to her and headed towards Lori and Carl.

Leigh turned and headed back to the RV, stepping inside. Carol was in the back bedroom on the bed and her cries could be heard even from the kitchenette. Leigh frowned, sharing a passive look with Glenn. As she opened the small fridge for a water, she saw the case of beer on the shelf. Pursing her lips, she pulled it out with the water bottle and went back outside.

Daryl was easy enough to find; he was sitting on the open tailgate of an abandoned truck, wiping down his bolts with a dirty rag. He glanced up and almost groaned when he saw Leigh approaching, but the beer in her hand stilled his voice.

"Hey," she greeted shyly as she shuffled up in front of him. He regarded her with a small grunt. "I, um, well, I—"

"Spit it out," he barked lowly, his eyes still on the arrows in his hands.

"Thank you." His head snapped up at her words and he wondered for a minute if she was playing some kind of sick joke on him. "For what you did at the CDC. You didn't have to do anything. You could have let me die." She'd dropped her gaze as she spoke, suddenly feeling very small under his hard stare.

"Your point?" he grunted. Leigh lifted her head.

"So…thank you," she repeated, her eyebrows shooting to her hairline. This man clearly didn't take gratitude very well. "And…Glenn said you'd appreciate these." She held up the case of beer and Daryl's tongue flicked out to wet his bottom lip as he stared at the case longingly.

"What's that Chinaman know 'bout me?" he grumbled, dropping his head again as Leigh smirked at his reaction to the case.

"He's Korean, first off. And, I dunno, all men like beer, right?" He didn't look up and that's when Leigh decided that her time was up. Setting the case on the gate next to Daryl, she didn't say another word as she turned on her heel and headed back towards the RV.

Once she was gone, Daryl all but yanked a bottle out of the case, twisting off the cap and gulping down almost half of the bottle. Even though he'd gotten good and drunk off Jenner's wine the night before, nothing beat the taste of beer, even if it was some cheap foreign shit. It was cold and it was alcohol, so Daryl didn't complain.

As he drank, he too thought back to the CDC. Why _had_ he done what he had? The loudest part of himself said it was because the others would blame him if she'd died, having been so close to her when she'd stopped running; but an even smaller, quieter part of him said it was the right thing to do. He'd want someone saving his ass—Daryl scoffed, as if he'd ever admit that to anyone but himself—if he was in the same situation.

While her presence was irritating, and her inability to defend herself even more so, she'd brought him beer, and she'd actually thanked him for saving her life. She'd spoken with sincerity—even though Daryl was probably the worst person to identify such an emotion—and she'd brought beer. The beer, inevitably, was the only reason he'd even accepted her gratitude—had he really, though?—much less why he even listened to a single word she said. She'd caught on to his expression when she lifted the beer; he'd been trained on it like a dog to a bone and he was hooked.

The grumpier part of him—the Merle part—told him that something like that would never, ever happen again if he could help it.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** To the anonymous reviewer, the show gives very few hints about just how long into the outbreak Rick awakens. However, the timeline I have chosen fits better with my story since writing two chapters of Leigh's solo journey for two weeks would have gotten very boring, very fast. Though, I may go back and make some edits implicating that she was on her own for that long. Thank you, though, for letting me know!

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><p>"I know you blame him," Leigh muttered to Carol as the group, minus Dale and T-Dog, prepared to leave in search of Sophia. The two women were packing up water bottles and light snacks for the group, and the older woman turned a pitiful gaze on Leigh. "I know you can't help it. You trusted him to watch over your daughter, and he lost her. But you have to remember that she's a child, she most likely just got scared and lost her way."<p>

"But Rick said he _told_ her to head back to camp," Carol responded meekly. "That makes him responsible. Whether or not you agree, that's what I think and until he gets my daughter back I'm not going to think anything differently."

She walked away then to join Lori and Carl, who were ready to leave. Hiking a pack on her shoulder, Leigh sighed and picked up the baseball bat T-Dog had given to her. He wouldn't have any use for it. Testing it in her hands, Leigh almost gave a practice swing, but a cry from behind her made her stop.

"Watch where you're swingin' that thing," Daryl barked, his hands up in defense. Leigh blushed, but smiled apologetically, and he stomped by, muttering curses as he went. Leigh watched him step over the guardrail easily before jogging down to catch up with Rick.

Lowering the bat onto her shoulder, Leigh headed the same way, hopping over the rail behind Lori and Carol. She trailed behind the rest of the group, letting Rick and Daryl lead the way. The group picked up where the two men had left off the day before, and before long they came to a camp site that appeared to be abandoned.

Rick held up a hand to the group while Daryl crept forward. Rick turned and looked at Carol, jerking his head towards the tent. He murmured in her ear, words that went unheard by the group, and Carol began calling out her daughter's name. Daryl stepped forward with his crossbow drawn and loaded, pulling back the flap of the tent. He shook his head as an army of flies came buzzing out of it and he disappeared into the tent.

He came back out a second later.

"Bastard opted out," he said, intentionally quoting Jenner. He glanced briefly at Leigh before leading the group past the camp site.

The group wandered around the woods until the sun was just reaching the tops of the trees. They were tired, hungry, thirsty, and sore, and it seemed like they hadn't picked up on any more clues to Sophia's whereabouts. Rick called for a short break and almost everyone collapsed against a tree, sat on a log, or just plopped into the grass. Glenn was one of the survivors that chose the grass, flipping his hat off and stretching his arms out to the sides. He closed his eyes against the sun and peeked open only one when he heard someone sit down next to him. It was Leigh and she was holding a canteen out towards him.

"Thanks," he said, pulling himself up to sip slowly. Leigh nodded and sighed. "You don't think we'll find her, do you?" He kept his voice low between the two of them, not wanting to give anyone the impression that either of them was losing hope. It'd only been a day, after all; but on the other hand, a day out here meant a lifetime in the old days.

Leigh shrugged and accepted the canteen back. "It's not that. I just…I don't know." She glanced towards Daryl, who'd strayed some feet away from the group and was scrutinizing the grass.

"I don't know how he does it," she murmured more to herself. But Glenn heard her and followed her gaze to the hunter kneeling in the grass.

"He practically lives in these woods. Somehow he can tell when a branch has been recently broken or he can see a very small blood trail on a pile of leaves."

Leigh scoffed. "Sounds like a load of horse shit."

"It's not," Glenn half-laughed. "He tracked a deer that way. Of course, that deer ended up walker food, but still!" Leigh smiled lightly at him just as Rick called for everyone to pack up and press on. Glenn and Leigh hung closer to the back of the group, making small talk as they peered off into the trees.

Once again they shared stories from their past and the next they knew the group was climbing over the guardrail and the sun had sunk behind the trees. Leigh sighed and watched Carol head into the trailer; her heart went out to the woman, but she had to stop blaming Rick. He did what anyone else in the group would have done to protect her; at least, she _hoped_ everyone in the group would have done the same. No, she thought with a shake of her head, everyone in the group adored that little girl and she was positive that they would have done the same.

That evening was uneventful; Rick refused to allow a fire to be built, claiming that they were out too much in the open. No one really disagreed with that, and so they all huddled in the RV for warmth on the chilly September night. Dale and Glenn slept in the two front seats, Carol unanimously had the back bedroom, Andrea took the bench next to her, T-Dog was allowed the floor in between them, Rick, Lori, and Carl, as well as Shane, opted for their vehicles, and Daryl had watch duty that night. Leigh lay on the floor of the kitchenette, staring up at the ceiling as if she could actually see Daryl, sitting in that lawn chair, peering over the horizon.

She knew he wasn't her biggest fan and she knew exactly why. He thought she was plum useless when it came to defending herself; she'd frozen up twice the two opportunities she had. Her only excuse was that it still hadn't quite sunk in that the world now belonged to the dead, and that the very few living barely stood a chance.

Thinking of the world as it was now made her think of her family in Radcliff. Had they gotten out safely? Did they reach Atlanta, find it was a hot zone, and head somewhere else? Up until now her family had stayed far from her mind, and she'd even managed to half-convince herself that they were gone, one way or another. Now that she thought of it, she wondered if she'd passed by her mother's dead and decaying face when she'd ventured into Atlanta. Maybe her father was one of the men who'd opted out, shot himself in the head, like so many others had chosen to do. The thought made her sick to her stomach, which rolled with nausea. Sitting up, Leigh took deep, slow breaths to calm her stomach and after a few minutes, it calmed. Leigh didn't trust her stomach that much, though, and decided that fresh air was her best bet.

Tying on her sneakers, she quietly opened the RV door and stepped out into the night, stopping to listen for any sound that wasn't completely human. When it was silent, she closed the door and leaned against the RV with her arms crossed. She tilted her head back against the vehicle and drew in a deep breath, relishing in the scent of the pines trees and the grass.

Footsteps above her head made her look up. In the darkness, she could barely see Daryl's silhouette on the roof, but he was there.

"Can't sleep," she said quietly up to him. She saw him nod and he turned to head back to the chair. Sighing, she turned to head up to the roof. No sense in being on the ground in the open when there was a perfectly comfortable lawn chair on top of an RV.

Daryl didn't look at her as she climbed up and sat herself beside him, crossing one leg over the other. They stayed silent for quite some time until Leigh heard the flick of a lighter. Daryl lit his cigarette and flipped the Zippo closed. He caught her looking at him and his eyes dropped to the cigarette. Pulling it from his mouth, he passed it over to her with a blank stare.

"I don't smoke," she muttered, leaning away from the cancer stick as if was about to jump up and attack. Daryl shrugged and put it back in his mouth.

"No better time to start," he mused. Leigh chewed on her lip as she watched him smoke—rather, she watched the cigarette, watched it light up as he inhaled, and watched the smoke curl upwards as he exhaled.

Daryl knew she was watching him and he planted a smirk on his face purposely. He could see it on her face that was considering asking him for a drag, so when it finally came, he simply passed the half-smoked cigarette to her without a word.

"How do I…?" she asked, staring helplessly at the butt in her hand.

"Inhale, let it sit for a minute, exhale."

Leigh did just that and held it away from her as she began coughing wildly. She pulled her shirt over her mouth to muffle the sounds and even Daryl couldn't stop the small snicker from leaving his mouth. Leigh looked over at him, mouth agape, once her coughing fit subsided.

"You're laughin' at me!" she quietly jested. Daryl stopped snickering and shook his head, but he didn't do so well in keeping a straight face as another grin creased his features. "You're fuckin' laughin' at me. That's not fair."

Daryl was slightly surprised by her sudden language. He hadn't heard her curse before, ever, and for a brief moment he wondered if he ever would. He had to admit, she made dirty words sound pretty.

"World ain't fair, honeybuns," he said, pulling another cigarette from his pack to replace the one he'd given to Leigh. Lighting up, silence overtook them as they sat on the roof and smoked.

"Oh," he said as she took another drag. The nicotine was doing surprisingly well to calm her nerves, and she understood now why people suddenly went into bad moods if they didn't smoke. "You might feel a little sick after your first one."

Leigh looked over at him, far from amused. "Now you tell me," she deadpanned.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** This one's a bit shorter. I didn't want to end in an awkward place for the next chapter, which I really didn't want to split up into two. So the next one, I'm hoping, will be a bit longer. Keep the reviews comin' guys!

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><p>The next morning, the group—Rick, Daryl, Glenn, and Leigh—headed out bright and early. Leigh had indeed felt sick after her very first cigarette, but she asked Daryl for one more before she went to bed. The past few days had been hell on her nerves, and just those two cigarettes had been enough to calm her down. However, Daryl barely spoke to her the next day, much less looked at her, and Leigh had trouble figuring out why. The night before had been pleasant; mostly they sat in silence—because Lord knew Daryl would be dead before he ever started a conversation—and smoked, with a few exchanged words between them. For once, he hadn't been belittling her, calling her useless or any other sort of name.<p>

Now, he stomped on ahead of the group, occasionally kneeling in the leaves to look for any signs of Sophia's whereabouts. A few times he simply led them in circles, claiming he'd "misread the signs". Leigh exchanged a disbelieving look with Glenn behind Daryl's back, but Glenn simply shook his head. He figured it was better to trust Daryl's judgment than piss him off by disagreeing or complaining.

The quartet walked in silence for quite some time, following Daryl's lead and judgment without question. While Leigh praised him for ability to track, he'd gone in too many circles for her to continue to believe that they were even heading in the right direction. He'd yelled at all of them when they started shouting Sophia's name,

"Ya'll wanna bring every walker in Georgia down on our asses?" he'd snapped, pinning each of them with a glare. They stayed quiet after that; not even light conversation flittered around the group.

Leigh wasn't the only one who was doubting Daryl; beside her, Glenn turned over in his head the idea that Daryl had lost Sophia's trail. They were further out and further west than they'd been the day before, and to all of them, the idea that Sophia would have run this far on her own seemed small. Rick was beginning to think the same. A twelve-year-old would have at least tried to find her way back to the group. When Rick fell into step next to Daryl, a hand on his shoulder, and voiced his thoughts, Daryl was quick to reply.

"Anyone would get turned around in these trees," he said, turning to glance back at Leigh and Glenn before meeting Rick's eyes. "Hell, if I weren't here you all might not even find your way back to camp." Leigh wanted to be offended, but she knew he was right—at least about her. Without Daryl, none of them would be able to find the trail back to the highway.

So they pushed on for another mile before Daryl claimed that the trail had gone cold. Glenn scoffed quietly next to Leigh.

"I think the trail's been cold for a while now," he grumbled. He was tired, hungry, and he was pretty sure his feet were covered in blisters, despite wearing sneakers.

They were a mile away from the highway when the sun began its descent behind the trees. The forest was cast in a beautiful orange glow as the group trekked on, pulling back branches and climbing over fallen logs. They passed by the river and the fallen log where Rick had left Sophia; Leigh looked over at the cop, a forlorn and guilty expression on his face. She reached over and patted him on the back, giving him a reassuring smile when he looked at her.

As they were climbing the embankment, a small cry made Leigh stop in her tracks.

"Wait," she said to the group as they walked on. The three men looked at her as she stayed quiet, listening. The cry came again and she looked at them with wide eyes, silently asking if they'd heard it too. Glenn cocked his head as Daryl rolled his eyes, turning to walk away. It came a third time, louder, and Daryl suddenly stopped as Leigh began searching.

"Sophia!" Rick called out, despite Daryl's warnings not to. His call was answered with a final, loud cry that was coming from underneath the log—right where Rick had left her. Leigh was the first one there, bending at the waist to peer underneath.

There she was, curled up on the bank beneath the log, shaking and tearful. When she saw Leigh, she all but dive-bombed her, wrapping her skinny arms around her legs and refusing to let go.

"Shh," Leigh cooed, rubbing the girl's back soothingly. "You're all right, Sophia. You're safe." She looked sadly at Rick, who followed her gaze to the girl's shirt. At the shoulder was a deep red stain, resembling blood.

"Sophia," Rick said as he kneeled down next to the crying girl. "Are you hurt?" Sophia didn't answer him, just buried her face further into Leigh's legs. Rick reached out peel away the shirt, but Sophia skirted away from his hands with a fearful cry. He looked at Leigh silently, his jaw clenched and numerous emotions swimming through his eyes. The one Leigh recognized immediately, though, was fear.

"Sophia, I need to see if you're hurt," Leigh told her quietly, soothingly. The girl relaxed against her legs and Leigh made her move. She slowly reached down to touch the girl's shirt and peeled away the collar. Leigh closed her eyes, clenched her teeth, and willed herself not to cry. Sighing, she lowered her head before opening her eyes to look at Rick, and then at Daryl and Glenn, who hadn't moved.

The wound wasn't too deep, but the walker's teeth had broken skin and it had bled heavily at one point. Now, the blood had clotted, but a deep infection had begun. Disguising it as brushing Sophia's hair back, Leigh felt the girl's forehead. She was burning up with the fever. It was amazing that Sophia had even leaped out from underneath the log so damn quickly.

"We have to go back," Rick said, his statement ambiguous. Leigh, however, caught the double-meaning. They couldn't just shoot Sophia here, leave her, and then show up empty-handed to tell Carol the news. The woman at least needed to see her daughter one more time before she succumbed to the fever.

"Come on, Sophia," Leigh said as she began to lead the girl away. She wasn't surprised to hear the threat of tears in her voice.

When they reached the highway, Rick ran ahead to warn the others of Sophia and to break the news to Carol before the woman saw her daughter. From the woods, Leigh heard Carol's anguished cry and she closed her eyes. Sophia heard it too and tried to move out of Leigh's grip. The hike back to camp hadn't been easy for her with a fever running probably over one hundred degrees, and she'd almost collapsed once they'd stopped.

"Stay here, Sophia. Stay with me until it's okay," she ordered when the girl tried to move again.

"I want Mommy," Sophia cried, a new wave of tears breaking loose. Leigh gritted her teeth as another tear rolled down her own cheek.

"I know, sweetie. Just give Officer Rick a couple minutes to talk to her." Daryl and Glenn had both been silent on the walk back; all of them had. No one had any words to say, nothing of comfort or providing some kind of distraction from the cold truth. Daryl looked at Leigh as she held onto Sophia. She stopped holding back her tears shortly before they reached the edge of the woods and now tears rolled quickly and endlessly down her face. He averted his gaze.

Daryl Dixon had felt guilty only one time in his life, and that was for lying to his brother, Merle, about something stupid that he hadn't bothered to remember. Now, though, the guilt weighed heavy on his shoulders the longer he looked at Leigh hugging that girl to her side. If it had been anyone else that had been bitten, Daryl wouldn't have hesitated in shooting them between the eyes. But now, looking at Sophia, at the terrified look on her face, he knew, when it came down to it, that he wouldn't be able to kill this little girl, regardless of what she would become.

Rick came jogging back to the group, sans Carol. Leigh sighed slightly in relief, although she could still hear Carol crying as they crested the hill to the guardrail. Once Carol saw her daughter, though, Rick's warning flew right out the window as she pulled her daughter into her arms. She didn't recoil from how hot her daughter's skin was, only hugged her tighter to her chest. Leigh watched on sadly as mother and child were reunited for only a short amount of time.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:** Keep up those reviews guys! It's what keeps me updating.

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><p>Sophia was given the bed in the RV, and Carol didn't leave her daughter's side except to use the restroom, and when she couldn't be by her daughter's side, someone, mainly Leigh, always was. Her shoulder had been slathered with the antibiotic ointment in Dale's first aid kit and covered with a gauze pad. Her fever hadn't gone down at all; in fact, every time Leigh or Carol felt her forehead, her skin felt ten times hotter than the last time. Carol's tears had stopped, but the lost, hopeless expression stayed.<p>

Shane was impatient to make the decision of what would be done with Sophia when the fever finally became too much. He paced back and forth on the road with his hand on the gun on his hip, eyes on the camper as if he was expecting Sophia, in walker form, to come staggering out. It infuriated Leigh that he could be so heartless.

"We need ta' do somethin'," he said loudly to the group a few hours later. The sun had gone down already and a crescent moon rose, dousing the highway in a milky light.

"And what do you propose we do?" Leigh asked as she stepped forward, arms crossed. Shane glared at her; ever since she'd arrived with the group, Shane had been beyond hostile towards her. Though he always bit his tongue, she caught the looks he would give her—the looks Daryl sometimes gave her. He thought she was useless to the group; she could barely fire a gun, and even if she was perfect in doing so, she froze up every time she saw a walker. She was an extra mouth to feed, an extra ass to cover.

"Same thin' we do ta' every other walker we see," he said blankly, unblinking. The group had circled around him, including Carol, who almost immediately burst into tears at Shane's suggestion. Lori wrapped an arm around the other woman's shoulders, piercing Shane with a glare that would rival an angry bull's.

"And I s'pose you're gonna be the one to do it?" Leigh shot back immediately. She'd planted her feet and her hands were on her hips, a stance that told Shane she wasn't going to back down.

He didn't answer her as he purposely at Daryl. Straightening his shoulders, Daryl crossed his arms and pinned Shane with a look that clearly said he wasn't going to be the one to kill Sophia.

"Are ya'll really gonna let the fact that she's a little girl slide by this? Little girl or not, she's gonna bite someone. I ain't gonna wait 'round for that to happen." He looked around the group, but no one seemed to be siding with him. Realizing he was fighting a losing battle, he ground his teeth and let out a guttural growl before kicking an empty gas can and storming off.

"He's right," Leigh muttered, correcting herself when everyone turned to her in disbelief. "She could infect any of us. Now, I'm not saying let's all just go in there right now. I say we wait until the fever becomes too much and she passes from that. Then we bring her out into the woods and do it. We can bury her next to the highway."

The entire time she spoke, Leigh kept eye contact with Carol. She was silently asking for the woman's permission on this, something Shane never would have even considered, and she nodded when Carol did. The older woman turned on her heel and went back into the camper to spend as much time with her passing daughter as she could.

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><p>The last time Leigh checked on her, Sophia was still breathing. It was shallow and faint, but it was there. However, Leigh knew it wouldn't be too long now. She sat on the roof of the camper, a cigarette between her lips. She'd managed to schmooze Daryl into coughing up an extra pack or two, and he'd done so willingly. Despite being the newest member of the group, he knew that Leigh was having as hard a time as any of them when it came to Sophia. He'd seen the tears on her face when she held the girl close to her in the woods. The sight nearly broke him in two; it would have if Merle's voice hadn't reared itself in the back of his head, calling him a "fuckin' pussy for lettin' a woman's tears weaken him'." He said, "Women cry to get the upper hand, lil' brother. It's a trap, and don't you be stupid 'nough to fall for it." No matter how strong Merle's influence, Daryl knew he wasn't right about this one. He even felt on the brink of tears every time he had to think back to the look Shane gave him when they were deciding Sophia's fate.<p>

He scoffed next to a pickup truck, smoking his own cigarette. It sounded disgusting even in his head. That little girl didn't deserve to come to a fate as the one destined for her. She was an innocent little girl, who hadn't done anything bad to anybody—least of all him. And yet Shane had looked at him to do his dirty work. Daryl gritted his teeth. If anyone deserved a slow, agonizing death to walker-dom, it was Shane. He saw the way he looked at Leigh, like she was disposable. Sure, Daryl had his doubts about her when she brought walkers down on their heads in the department store. He'd questioned her ability to pull her own weight in the group, but then he saw how close she was to Carol in the older woman's time of need. When Carol wasn't sitting by Sophia, Leigh always was, and she always had the girl's small hand in hers, brushing her thumb comfortingly over the girl's knuckles.

Shane, though…Shane looked like the kind of man who'd shoot someone if it meant his own survival. Daryl inhaled deeply, angrily on the cigarette, finishing it off in one drag. He crushed the butt under his boot and exhaled slowly. His eyes drifted up to the RV, where Leigh sat in the chair with a rifle across her lap. He almost agreed with Shane to disallow her the use of a gun, but she'd argued with Shane the entire time, finally wearing him down to grudgingly agree. In the moonlight, he watched her slump her shoulders, lean forward, and drop her head in her hands. Her body was shaking; she was crying.

"Aw, hell," he muttered before swinging his crossbow onto his back. He ascended the ladder at the back of the camper. She started when he climbed up and he held out a hand, silently telling her to calm down.

"Ya all right?" he asked, sitting in the chair beside her. She was smoking another cigarette, the fourth one he'd seen since he'd gone outside. She didn't look at him as she nodded.

"You don't want to do it." Her statement was vague, but he understood her nonetheless. He shook his head and picked at a stray thread on his army fatigues.

"Can't," he said around a cigarette. Leigh looked at him then, but his eyes stayed on the horizon in front of them. "Won't."

"Why?" Though Daryl was quieter and more subtle about it, Leigh didn't doubt that he matched Shane in his intolerance of walkers, or walkers-to-be.

"Why won't you?" he retorted, turning to look at her. She dodged his glance and looked at the rifle in her arms. It felt heavy and alien to her.

"I just can't. And I won't. Shane may be right about her infecting people, but he isn't right about killing her while she's still alive. I'd kill him myself before he ever got the chance." She muttered the last part more to herself, but Daryl heard and a small smile appeared on his face. "I really don't like that man."

"Join the fuckin' club." The two shared small smiles and puffed on their cigarettes, letting the silence of the night surround them.

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><p>Sophia passed during the night. Carol was holding her hand when the girl's shallow breaths abruptly came to a stop. The group had known that she most likely wouldn't have lasted the night, and a dark sadness hung over the group like a big black storm cloud. Leigh went into the camper to check on Carol. The woman hadn't moved and tears were silently streaming down her face. She looked at Leigh and shook her head, squeezing her daughter's lifeless hand once. Dropping her head, Leigh nodded and head back out to tell the group. Shane was the only one who showed no emotion, aside from Daryl, but Leigh had expected both of them to remain stoic at a time like this. Even Rick cried a little as he hugged Lori and Carl to him. The younger boy was so distraught, and his cries and wails almost caused Leigh to lose it right there. T-Dog held his head in his one good arm as he sat in a lawn chair outside the RV. Glenn removed his hat and wrung it in his hands as he tried to keep himself together.<p>

"Here's your chance, Shane," Leigh growled angrily at the cop before she stormed away from the group, disregarding Rick's rules to never go anywhere alone. She found a car some thirty feet away and crouched behind it, out of sight from the others, and she let the dams break.

Her body shook as she held her head in her hands. She muffled her sobs with her arms and when she looked down at them they were gleaming with tears. She didn't stop crying for some time, even when she heard the men moving Sophia's body to the woods. Glenn had come to get her, but once he'd seen how distraught she was, he didn't ask if she was tagging along.

A gun shot rang out some minutes later, and Carol's agonized shriek followed it. Leigh mirrored it with her own as the tears continued to flow; they just wouldn't stop coming.

The next time someone came to fetch her, it was Daryl. He shuffled up beside her awkwardly as she trembled and he looked away when she lifted her head to look up at him.

"Havin' the service now, 'f ya wanna come," he said easily, glancing at her as he spoke. He didn't have his crossbow on him, so Leigh immediately knew that he hadn't been the one to shoot her. Not wanting to know, Leigh only nodded and got to her feet, ignoring Daryl's attempt to help her up, which consisted of him flapping his arm a couple times.

He led her over to the rest of the group and she immediately latched onto Lori, Andrea, and Carol, hugging the three women to her as Rick began speaking. Leigh looked at the cop, instantly putting the pieces together: the look on his face, the strain in his voice as he spoke. He had been the one to put Sophia down for good. Her respect for the man instantly grew; she knew it couldn't have been easy to be in his position. He had the group to think about, which had unanimously named him "unofficial leader" whether Shane liked it or not, and he was required to make some of the most difficult decisions no one should ever have to even think about.

The service was short; only three people volunteered to speak: Rick, Carol, and Carl. When the little boy stepped up with tears in his eyes, Leigh immediately felt hers brimming.

"Sophia was…" he stopped to let out a choked sob. Leigh tightened her hold on Lori's shoulders. "Sophia was my best friend. She didn't deserve this. No one does, not even bad guys. As sad as I am to see her go, I'm happy that she's not suffering anymore. She's probably horseback riding with Jesus right now." Everyone let out sad chuckles, and Leigh even saw Daryl smile a little. He met her eyes across the grave, and his smile grew a little bit, reassuring her that everything was going to be okay. She bit her lip and nodded, listening as Carl finished his eulogy.

After Rick and Glenn set up the makeshift cross, everyone headed back to the vehicles. Carol disappeared into the RV and Andrea and Lori went with her. Dale had removed his hat for the service and it stayed off as he looked forlornly at Sophia's grave. Shane milled around, keeping his head down and avoiding all eye contact. That dark cloud had made a permanent residence over the survivors' heads.

"I'll take watch again, Dale," Leigh volunteered before the older man could climb up to the roof. He looked at her sadly.

"You haven't gotten a good night's sleep since you've been with us. I think you should let me take this one."

"I won't be able to sleep after today, Dale. I really don't mind." Something in her voice made Dale change his mind and he nodded as he handed her the rifle, which she slung over her shoulder so she could climb the ladder.


	12. Chapter 12

"We need to think about the coming months," Rick said two days later. He'd given the group time to mourn over the loss of Sophia—more specifically, Carol, Lori, and Carl—but now he believed the time had come to think about the winter months. None of them were sure how simple or how harsh this winter would be, and their plan of staying out in the open on the highway had just about run its course.

The group was convened shortly after breakfast. Daryl had gone hunting early that morning and managed to bring back a string of squirrels and one fat rabbit. They dined on bad coffee and squirrel meat, which Leigh had learned was routine for them.

"We don't know what this winter's going to be like, and if it's bad, the ground will freeze and we won't be able to pitch tents. Now, I did some scouting yesterday morning. There's a housing development not far off the road in the opposite direction. I'm not sure what the walker situation is there or the scavenging situation, but these houses will more than likely have generators and propane tanks. We can stay warm this winter and if needs be, we can build a fence. We can stop on the way to pick up some more supplies, too."

Everyone seemed to agree that this was a decent proposal, so no one disagreed.

"All right, let's start getting things packed up." He ended it with a ceremonial clap and everyone got to work. There wasn't much to pack up, just a few chairs here and there and whatever anyone else took out. Before they left they fished through some more cars for whatever supplies they could use.

Leigh looked towards the RV; it would be crowded with Dale, Glenn, Andrea, T-Dog, and Carol, and Carol's crying, however accepted and understandable, was beginning to get to Leigh. Every time she heard the woman sniffle or wail, her heart broke just a little bit more for her lost little girl. Daryl brushed by her at that moment and she watched him head to his motorcycle. He straddled the vehicle and moved to turn it on, stopping as Leigh called out his name.

"Can I…well, would it be okay if…" she trailed off as he nodded. He'd caught her looking apologetically at the RV and he knew it was because of Carol's crying that she didn't want to ride with them. It was nothing against Carol, but one could only take so much crying before he or she lost her own grip.

Leigh seemed somewhat surprised that he allowed her to ride with him, but she didn't question it as she stepped closer to the bike. She'd never been on one before and, looking at it now, it seemed utterly terrifying. Daryl smirked slightly at her reaction to motorcycle—Merle's—before he pulled his crossbow over his head.

"You gotta hold onto Luna, though," he reasoned, handing her the massive weapon. She struggled to get it over her head without knocking herself out, and once it was safely secured on her back, she climbed onto the bike behind him. "Ever been on a bike?" She shook her head.

"'S gonna get loud and 's gonna get cold. Hold on tight, too." She nodded as he started up the bike, wrapping her arms around his waist. He whipped the bike around and sped past the RV, causing Leigh to let out a surprised shriek and tighten her grip around his waist. Her finger curled around his thermal shirt, gripping the material like a vice.

Daryl was all too aware of her arms around him, her fingers against his stomach as she held on for dear life. Her thighs were lined up with his hips and occasionally he'd feel her clench the muscles in her legs in a desperate attempt to stay on the bike. Her face was against his back, blocking it from the chilling wind. When she wasn't standing stock-still in the face of danger, she wasn't that bad of a girl. She could vocally defend herself—she'd proven that against Shane—and she didn't make mindless chatter.

Leigh kept her head against Daryl's back, too fearful that the wind would whip it clean off if a powerful gust swept by them. His shoulders were well-muscled, as were his arms and his stomach, which she would occasionally feel clenching under his shirt. As she pressed her face further into his back, she could smell the combination of cigarettes, smoke, pine, and something she deemed "just Daryl" on his shirt; it was a pleasant smell, and it helped to calm her nerves from being on a motorcycle.

The caravan came to a stop some time later outside a massive shopping outlet. About twenty walkers littered the area surrounding it, and a few had begun making their way towards the vehicles. Daryl quickly pulled his crossbow over Leigh's head and took down the approaching geeks with ease while the rest of the men quickly ran forward with bats and broken pieces of metal. The walkers were quickly taken care of in a matter of minutes and the group once again convened to plan.

Leigh shakily got off the bike and wobbled over to the group; T-Dog smiled at her when he saw how unsteady she was on her feet. Daryl, too, grinned slightly, allowing her to use his shoulder to steady herself.

"All right. Daryl and I will head in through the front and grab what we can. I'd like everyone else to stay here and keep hidden and quiet," Rick ordered. He grabbed the bat from Glenn and the two of them hurried into the store.

They emerged about twenty minutes later, their arms full of bags of food, medical supplies, and whatever ammo they could recover. Daryl dumped the stuff off in the RV and met Leigh back on the bike. She groaned slightly as she got back on behind him and Daryl chuckled.

"Could always walk, ya know."

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><p>Daryl pulled the bike to a stop outside the housing development. He cut the engine as the RV pulled up beside him, and he, Leigh, and Glenn all looked out at the development. It was swarming with walkers, despite it being further away from the interstate, and there was no way they'd be able to clear them all out. Rick approached the bike as he looked over the land. He sighed in disappointment before telling Daryl to continue west. Restarting the bike, Daryl pulled away from the development just as the closer walkers caught sight of them.<p>

The caravan pressed on for a few miles before Rick pulled up in his SUV to call for a meeting. The convoy pulled over and everyone approached Rick's car, where he'd spread out a map on the hood.

"All right. Development idea is shot, but Fort Benning is still an option." He looked at the group as he spoke, waiting for someone to disagree. "It's over a hundred and twenty miles, but I think we can do it. Does anyone have any objections?" When nobody spoke, he folded up the map and slapped the hood.

The convoy continued south until the sun began to set, and then it pulled off onto a dirt road that Leigh had pointed out. It rumbled along slowly, and Leigh had a handgun at the ready just in case. She scanned the woods as they drove, watching for any kind of movement in the woods. A few deer leaped across the road, piquing Daryl's interest, but Leigh ordered him not to stop, that he could hunt in the morning if they found somewhere to camp.

About a mile and a half later, the convoy headed into a rather large clearing—a campground if Leigh had to guess, where about eight cabins had been built in a circle. A fire pit sat in the middle, surrounded by rocks with a grilling grate on top of them. Daryl pulled to a stop outside the circle of cabins and Leigh hopped off the bike, rubbing her backside.

"I'm getting sick of riding that stupid thing," she grumbled. Daryl chuckled as he cut the engine, swinging his right leg easily over the seat. He helped Leigh pull the crossbow over her head and lowered it onto his shoulder.

"Let's scout the area. Remember, no guns unless it's absolutely necessary," ordered Rick, a bat in his own hands. Daryl looked down at the gun in Leigh's hand and quickly reached to retrieve it. When Leigh turned to him, ready to challenge his actions, he simply smirked.

"Might shoot yer foot off." Leigh pinned him with a threatening look, but Daryl only smirked again and turned to check out the area. Leigh followed him after grabbing a large stick from the ground, wielding it like a baseball bat. She fell into step beside him and Daryl almost laughed out loud at how ridiculous she looked.

"Don't laugh. You took my gun," she growled. It didn't faze him in the least as they pressed on through the camp, checking every cabin.

Daryl threw open the door to the first; it was empty aside from two bunk beds and a small desk against the back wall. Cabin number two wasn't so lucky. Just standing outside, it reeked of death, but it was silent as Daryl opened the door. He and Leigh both covered their noses as the stench was released, and Leigh felt her stomach churn.

"Jesus," she muttered as Daryl shook his head once at the smell and stepped inside. Leigh made to follow him but stopped when he spoke.

"Don't come in here," he warned. That was all the confirmation Leigh needed to hear and she promptly backed away.

Inside the cabin, Daryl found a pair of younger adults in their early twenties, he wagered, on the floor of the cabin. Both of them were missing most of their faces, and two shotguns, both empty, lay at their feet. The cabin floor and walls were covered in blood and brain and skull matter. Breathing through his mouth, Daryl searched for anything that might be scavenged, but he came up empty.

The rest of the cabins proved the same results as cabin one and after the bodies in cabin two were disposed of, it was blocked off.

"Won't the smell attract walkers?" asked Carol as the women watched the men move a fallen log to the door. They all exchanged glances, mulling it over. Andrea huffed as a fly buzzed around her head.

"It seems to have attracted every bug from here to Kingdom Come."

Cabin two was chopped down and used as firewood, with the bloody wood pieces in a separate pile to be burned first. The mattresses had been cleared out, although one of them had a copious amount of blood and was to be burned with the rest of the bloody wood. The second mattress was simply tossed and left outside.

Rick pulled Daryl and Shane to the side, ordering a scout of the surrounding woods.

"Only go about a mile and stay within sight of one another. I won't feel totally safe until we know nothin's out there waitin' for us. Let's go." They slipped off into the woods, armed and ready for any surprises.

The three weren't gone long, and they stumbled upon about three walkers totally, which were quickly dispatched with Daryl's crossbow. Daryl also said that a herd of deer had recently passed through an area, and he immediately went into hunting mode: keeping silent and low to the ground, staring down the crossbow. His eyes and ears were on alert and when Shane stepped on a branch behind him, he held up a hand for them to stay back. No way was a couple of apes going to stop him from bagging a deer or two.

Rick opened his mouth as Daryl disappeared into some bushes and out of sight. He shared a look with Shane, but the two stayed put. Moments later they heard the snap of Daryl's crossbow releasing once and then twice after he reloaded. They heard his footsteps in the leaves, heard him pull his bolts from whatever he'd shot, and a grunt. He emerged from the bushes with a rather large buck on his shoulder.

"Eatin' good tonight, boys," he said as he walked past them towards camp. The two officers smiled at one another—though Shane's was strained—and followed the hunter.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:** To the anonymous review, I mentioned in an author's note of an earlier chapter that I wasn't going to explain the OC's journey into Atlanta. Yes, it would have taken quite some time for her to reach the city, but that explanation would have gotten very boring very quickly. Like I said in the same A/N, there was no exactly given period time through the outbreak when Rick woke up. I'm playing it off my own interpretation here. As for Daryl, I'm giving him my own personality, not sticking to the Daryl everyone knows on the show. If I stuck strictly to the show, this story would be boring. Everyone already knows what happens in the show, so why recreate that while throwing an OC into it? Also, I never intended for Leigh to come off as pathetic. I'm trying to stick to a realistic reaction to a zombie apocalypse, and, judging by everyone else's reviews, I'd say I'm doing a good job with it.

* * *

><p>It seemed the abandoned campground have proven a faithful safe haven for the next two weeks. Very few walkers wandered into the encampment and those that did were quickly taken care of. Leigh joined Daryl, Glenn, and Rick on their scavenging trips that occurred once a week. On one of these particular trips, Leigh got her hands on a calendar and brought it back despite Daryl's disagreements.<p>

"What you want a calendar for anyhow?" he asked her as he kicked a panel of plywood over.

"To keep track of the days," Leigh replied with an eye roll. The relationship between her and Daryl didn't improve, but it didn't waver either. They frequently shared cigarettes atop Dale's RV when either of them was on watch and when they weren't, they didn't interact unless it was necessary. It was an odd game of cat and mouse between them.

"Hey Daryl?" her voice called from the other side of the store. They'd landed upon a Dick's Sporting Goods store, and Daryl all but leaped at the chance to pick up new bolts to replace the ones he hadn't been able to retrieve. She heard his footsteps approaching and she looked over at him.

"Can you teach me how to shoot?" She was standing in front of a shelf of crossbows of all shapes and sizes. He, too, was staring at the array of crossbows in awe. Finally he looked at her, down at his own crossbow, and then back to the shelf.

"All right. Don't s'pose it could hurt anyone," he agreed with a small nod. He let a small smile curve his face when Leigh grinned happily. "Hold this."

He thrust the crossbow into her arms and began inspecting the stock on the shelf. Too heavy. Too slow. Too much work to load. Finally he chose a crossbow that Leigh could easily load, shoot, and clean. He handed the weapon to her and turned back to the shelf to pick out arrows. He chose bolts from every brand but all the same size, shoving them in a quiver he pulled off the rack to his left.

He slung the quiver on her shoulder and took his crossbow from her, handing her the smaller, newer one in his hand.

"Here. Should be easy 'nough for you ta' load n' shoot. Now let's go 'fore anythin' bad decides ta' happen." She nodded and they picked up the bags they'd packed full of supplies before Daryl whistled for Rick and Glenn, who came out from behind a shelf in the back of the store.

"Found some heavy winter supplies," Rick said. He jerked his head in the direction they'd come. "Could use some help."

Using two shopping carts, the four of them managed to cart everything back to the vehicles in one trip. Daryl took out a walker that had strayed too close to the store and that was about the only problem they'd had.

* * *

><p>The camp was bustling with activity when the men returned from a trip a few days later, and once she spotted their trucks, Andrea ran over excitedly.<p>

"What's goin' on?" asked Rick as he looked over her shoulder.

"A couple walkers stumbled into camp. But we had it handled. Well, _Leigh_ had it handled. Oh man, you should'a seen her!" Andrea chirped with a wide smile. Daryl raised his eyebrows. Leigh? Fighting off walkers? The last time a walker presented itself to her she froze up faster than a jackrabbit. Daryl tuned out as Andrea began to relay, in detail and excessive arm-waving, what happened and brushed by her. There was no way Leigh would take down two walkers all on her own, and Daryl refused to believe it.

But, lo and behold, just behind cabin five were the bodies of two downed walkers, an axe in one's head. Leigh was standing over them, shaking, and Lori and Carol were beside her attempting to calm her down. The three of them looked over at Daryl as he approached.

"The fuck happened?" he asked gruffly, still disbelieving what he was seeing. Just then Andrea let out an excited shriek and Lori smirked.

"Ask Andrea; she'll tell you _all_ about it." Daryl looked at Leigh, who was still staring wide-eyed at the walkers on the ground.

"She all right?" He didn't miss the small glance Lori and Carol shared over Leigh's head and it boiled his blood that they were getting ideas. _I swear_, he thought, _'s soon as ya start actin' like ya care, they get ideas_. He briefly shook his head at the notion.

"She'll be fine once we get a fire going. Would you mind getting one of the guys to help you take care of these two?" Lori nodded at the bodies and Daryl barely shook his head. The two women guided Leigh away from the scene and once he was alone, Daryl looked down at the walker with the axe in its head and let out a low whistle.

The girl could swing an axe, he relented. Maybe she wasn't so useless with a weapon, but she'd be even better once she learned how to properly shoot that crossbow he'd given her. Wrenching the axe out of its skull, Daryl grimaced at the squelching sound and leaned the axe against the back of the cabin. Then, avoiding the walker's nails, he yanked it further down into the woods to be burned. He did the same with the other—without recruiting the help of "one of the guys"—before quickly setting the rotting flesh ablaze. He watched over the flames until they began to die down before heading back up to his cabin.

He set his crossbow down on the opposite bunk and changed his shirt, which had walker brains and blood splattered on it. The women had begun cooking some of the meat that had been in the cooler in Dale's RV, as well as a couple cans of corn. Leigh was sitting by herself as Andrea and Carol cooked, with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and a water bottle in her hand. Even from his cabin Daryl could see her shaking like a leaf.

He ignored the looks everyone gave him and planted his butt down on the cooler beside her. She barely acknowledged him as she stared off blankly into the fire.

"You okay?" he asked her lowly, eyeing Andrea when the blonde smirked in their direction. He looked back at Leigh and was surprised to see tears brimming in her eyes. Even though he understood that it wasn't easy making a kill—walker or not—Daryl prayed that she wouldn't start crying again. He was awkward around crying women, unsure whether to just let them cry it out or if he should hold her or what.

"Aw shit," he murmured when Leigh's dams finally broke. She crumpled into the blanket and sobbed quietly, sniffing here and there. Daryl looked helplessly at the others, who were all gazing sympathetically at the girl wrapped in the blanket—except Shane, who rolled his eyes, and the action sparked something in Daryl.

"You got somethin' ta' say?" he barked with a stiff nod at the officer. Looks passed between the two of them and even Glenn and Andrea scooted backwards a little. Rick watched on calmly but ready in case he needed to break up a fight. "What, because she's scared she don't get to cry? Not all of us 're made a'stone, _Officer Walsh_." The name was spat out like venom and in the firelight Shane's eyes flashed.

"She makes one kill—"

"_Two_. _Two_ kills," Daryl corrected rudely. The force of his voice made Leigh shudder and curl further into her blanket as she listened to the two men argue.

"Big fuckin' deal. Point is, she gets a little scared and what, we all huddle 'round her? Give her space? Give her time? Everybody needs to wake up—right now. We're not _campin'_ for the hell of it. We're not some big group o' friends enjoyin' some cookout together. There are things out there that wanna kill us. Now if she's jus' growin' a pair now, hell we all might be fuckin' screwed."

Daryl saw red; he shot up from the cooler, tipping it backwards as he curled his fist, prepared to knock Shane's teeth right out of his head. However, Rick, Glenn, and Dale, and even Andrea stepped in to stop the two from bumping heads. Daryl was yelling incoherently at Shane, his accent sounding thicker than usual, and Shane was firing redneck insults right back at him. In the midst of the arguing, Leigh had finally heard and seen enough. Tightening the blanket around her shoulders, she stood up and walked silently back to her cabin.

The arguing abruptly came to a stop as everyone watched her go, and Andrea thumped Shane none-too-lightly on the shoulder, giving him a "look what you did" glare. The blonde moved to run after Leigh, but Daryl shocked both everyone else and himself by holding up a hand and offering to go. Andrea could only nod she was so shocked.

He rapped on the door of her cabin and was welcomed inside with a sniffle. He shut the door behind himself and turned to face Leigh. She was huddled on the bottom bunk on the right side, facing the wall. She'd taken one of the lamps from the RV and it lit the room just enough for Daryl to see her.

"Leigh…" he started. He realized he didn't have much to say but he sat down on the edge of her bed anyways. "Ya know he's wrong, don't ya?" She shrugged under the blanket and Daryl sighed. She wasn't going to speak, he already knew.

"The first time I killed a walker, it was just after Merle and me made a run for it in the woods. It wasn't somethin' to get all excited about. And when I looked down at it, I didn't see it as killin' an animal. This, this thing I killed…it used to be human, like me, and that's how I saw it. I killed a human being. Wouldn't stop pukin' after, and Merle never let me live it down." As he spoke, Leigh had slowly rolled over to look at him. He was staring at the floor, occasionally rubbing at his chin and gnawing on his thumbnail.

"I'm sorry," she said hoarsely, clearing her throat as he looked at her. "For your brother, for…for tonight. But I can't help think that maybe Shane was right."

"Don't you ever say that. Nothin' that man says will ever be right," Daryl retorted. He made a vague gesture next to his temple. "Somethin' ain't right upstairs with him and he takes his anger out on everybody else. Don't matter if you're a woman or a child. If you're there, you're a target."

Leigh sighed, knowing that she wasn't going to win an argument with Daryl Dixon. The man was more stubborn than a yearling and frankly, she was far too tired to even respond to him.

"Should prob'ly get some rest. Tomorrow I'll teach ya how to load the crossbow." Nodding, Leigh turned onto her back as Daryl stood up and silently left the cabin.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:** Thank you to those who reviewed the last chapter; I've responded personally to each of them, aside from the non-member ones, which are below. Remember guys, reviewing keeps me updating. Anything you want to see? Anything I can improve on? Anything that I'm doing well? Let me know! I thrive on your feedback.

On another note, I've recently come up with an idea for a Boondock Saints story, which I will be starting after this is finished. However, I will be returning to school this coming Monday, the 16th, with classes starting the day after. For the first week of classes, I should be able to stick to my daily updates, but the following week, when things really kick into gear with studying and whatnot, I'm going to have to come up with an updating schedule, depending on how busy I am. I'm _hoping_ to have this story in its entirety typed out by either the end of next week or the week after. Like I said, it really depends on how busy I am.

**SaraBear:** Thank you for your review! Like I said, I didn't want to have like, two chapters just talking about Leigh being on her own for three weeks or so because readers would lose interest fast. With Daryl and Leigh, I'm trying to keep things moving slowly because a lot of the FF I've read includes the two just jumping into bed/love with one another, and that's not how I work when I tell romances.

**Soup:** Thank you for letting me know about that mistake. I've fixed it now :]

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><p>Leigh didn't sleep well that night, if at all. The events of earlier had thrown themselves on a loop in her head. The snapping jaws of the walkers, the coiling fingers, the tattered clothing… Leigh tossed and turned in that small bunk, and once she woke herself up with a small whine of complaint before falling back asleep.<p>

_Leigh, Andrea, and Carol were sorting through dirty laundry: men's clothes in one pile and women's in another. Carl was with Lori, who was attempting to teach him math, and he wasn't was having it. He was swatting at flies around his head, looking elsewhere, anything to distract him from the problems in front of him. Lori had snapped at him a few times to get him to pay attention._

_And then everything just stopped. The gargles and moans were all too real despite Leigh's brain telling her it was her imagination. No one spoke as the group leaped into action, and Leigh dove for the axe that Shane had used earlier to chop up more firewood. The man himself was too busy shielding Lori and Carl from the walkers, who had Leigh in their sights as she drew them away from the group. Her body was moving on its own volition; not a single thought passed through Leigh's head. Only adrenaline and fear for the people she'd come to call a family threw her into action._

_One walker was slower than the other, so she took out the faster of the two, lopping one of its legs off at the knee to slow it down before driving the axe into its skull._

_The second came far too close for her liking, and she let out an almost animalistic yowl as she swung the axe downward, embedding the blade into the brain. The walker fell limply, landing on the ground with an unattractive thud. Leigh stood panting over the bodies, and then the shock set in just as everyone came running over. Carol and Lori had stayed by her side to make sure that she was all right, but almost immediately after they'd put their arms around her, she began trembling at the sudden lack of adrenaline._

At some point in the night, she was woken so many times that she gave up on sleep entirely. Knowing she'd regret it in the morning, Leigh slid on her boots and headed outside to the fire, the blanket once again wrapped around her shoulders. She pulled out the pack of cigarettes in her pocket and plopped down on the cooler Daryl had occupied at dinner. She lit up and took her time smoking, letting the nicotine float around in her lungs and head before exhaling.

Shane was keeping watch on top of the RV, and he'd seen Leigh come out of her cabin. He sniffed in disdain and looked out into the trees, half-bathed in the glow from the moonlight. No matter how many walkers she killed, to him she'd still be an extra mouth to feed—and Dixon, as well.

Leigh knew Shane was watching her and it made her uncomfortable. She'd accepted the fact that Shane neither liked nor accepted her in the group, but he could at least have the decency to be subtle about it like Daryl had been.

Daryl. His name sounded funny in her head. There was no definition of Daryl Dixon; sure, he was the typical, hot-headed redneck who liked to smoke, drink, and curse to his heart's content. But he spoke to Leigh so differently than he did the others; when he spoke to Rick or Dale or Glenn, his voice was gruff and short. With Shane, Daryl was almost always yelling and cursing. But with Leigh, he spoke softly, as if she were a nervous foal. While she didn't complain that he was relatively civil towards her, she wondered why he suddenly underwent an attitude change. When they'd first met, he was so put off by her presence that he never spoke to her unless it was to call her useless. Now, he'd taken the time to make sure she was all right—especially tonight after the incident with Shane.

Leigh laughed lightly to herself. The apocalypse had arrived and she was still having guy trouble.

When Shane climbed down off the RV to switch shifts, he didn't look in Leigh's direction at all. Leigh did the same, staring blankly off into the flames until Andrea emerged from the cabin she shared with Dale. The blonde caught sight of Leigh sitting by the fire and smiled lightly.

"Care to join me on watch?" Nodding, Leigh pushed off the cooler and followed Andrea to the roof of the RV. Once they were seated, Andrea spoke again. "So what made you act this time instead of freezing up? Not that I'm complaining or picking on you…"

Leigh smiled. "No, I know. And to be honest, I really don't know. I guess it was just…fear. Pure fear and adrenaline. I wasn't thinking at all, didn't give myself time to. I just moved. I guess it just took me a while to understand that that's all you can do out here. Act first, think later. Thinking will get you killed."

"You sound like Shane," noted Andrea darkly. Leigh met her eyes and Andrea looked away. "He wasn't right about you tonight, you know."

Nodding, Leigh replied, "That's what Daryl said too. But I can't help but think that maybe he was. _Is._ _Is_ right about me. I mean, it's not the normal world we're used to anymore. There are things hunting us, wanting to kill us. I guess I was just stuck with the idea that, yeah, we were just a big group of people trying to make ends meet. Now, after today, I know that we're running, surviving. It's strange. I've killed a walker before—in the department store when I met Rick and the guys. But that was the only one. I spent more time hiding and running than I did fighting."

Andrea let her words sink in before nodding. "Men like Shane, they're made for this world. Rick and Shane and even Daryl…they're used to killing. The rest of us never even knew how to fire a gun until now. Sure, my dad gave me one when Amy and I took our road trip, but I'd never learned how to properly load and shoot it. Never thought I'd have to. Until now. Shane, he's got it in his head that everyone is supposed to be made of stone, that weakness will get you killed out here. But not everyone is like him. I'm not. _You're_ not like him. Regardless of what he thinks, it's okay to break down and cry sometimes when everything gets too hard, and don't you dare for a minute ever think that Shane has any idea about how strong or how weak you are. You've survived this long, haven't you? That tells me you're damn strong enough."

Leigh had tears in her eyes by the time Andrea was finished, and after a moment's thought, she knew Andrea was right. Shane was a bully, even when the world had gone to shit. He thrived off bringing others down, trying to make them "see the light" that the world they lived in was dangerous. While she agreed that it was, Leigh didn't agree that everyone had to be cold and hard like stone, like Shane.

"Thank you, Andrea," murmured Leigh as she wiped her eyes. Andrea nodded and smiled as Leigh stood up. "Think I ought to get to bed. Today wore me out. Goodnight. And thank you, again."

"Don't mention it, Leigh." Leigh smiled once more at Andrea before she climbed down the ladder and headed over to her cabin.

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><p>Leigh was the last to wake up the next day, though, after the events of the night before, no one blamed her. Shane was still huffy, stomping around the camp like a two-year-old throwing a temper tantrum, and he avoided her altogether. Leigh had no problem whatsoever with it and since Daryl had taken an early hunting trip, postponing their crossbow lessons, Leigh went with Lori and Carol to search for a water source for laundry.<p>

They came across a pond in the middle of the woods, a few miles north of their encampment. It looked promising enough; the bottom was clear enough that Leigh and the others could tell it wasn't ridden with algae and bugs and who knew what else. Unloading the laundry buckets from the back of Shane's SUV—which he'd grudgingly leant to them—Leigh plopped down between Lori and Carol as they began sorting through the clothes.

"So Leigh," said Lori, and immediately Leigh bristled, recognizing the tone in the brunette's voice straight away. "Anythin' goin' on with you and the younger Dixon brother?"

"No. Why do you ask?" Leigh wasn't lying; nothing more than a small friendship had formed between Leigh and Daryl, and as far as she was concerned, that was all there was to it.

"Well, how can I put this? You seemed to have tamed the woodsman, my fair lady," Carol joked, spurring the other two into raucous laughter.

"What? Are you both off your rockers? Daryl and I are nothing more than civil to one another."

Lori scoffed, "Please. I see the way he looks at you." She smirked when she saw the interest on Leigh's face. "Tell me you've never noticed it."

"Well, of course not," Carol chirped, leaning forward to see Lori. "They never do!"

"And what way, my dear Lori, might he be lookin' at me?" Leigh interjected before the two women could rant as if she weren't there between them.

"Oh please. He's completely ga-ga for you. The way he jumped to your defense last night."

"And then went to check on you," reminded Carol.

"Any of you would have done the same thing!" Leigh argued, gesturing with her hands.

"That's exactly our point, Leigh. Daryl doesn't _do_ those things! For anyone!"

"Except you." Carol emphasized her point by tapping Leigh on the nose.

"I assure you, nothing is going on between me and Daryl Dixon." Leigh dropped her head as she scrubbed one of the men's shirts on the washboard.

"Oh come on, you can't tell me you don't at least find him attractive? I mean, he's decent looking and he's got some really nice arms…"

"All right, all right. I know what you're doing," laughed Leigh. Lori and Carol chuckled beside her. "Okay, so I guess he is a bit attractive. And he knows his way around the woods. Oh stop." Carol began wagging her eyebrows suggestively at Leigh's latter comment and snorted with laughter when she'd been caught.

"So you _do_ like him!" Lori surmised with a knowing smirk.

"I didn't say that! I can be attracted to someone without liking him!" Lori and Carol exchanged eye rolls. "Besides, I don't even know anything about him except his last name!"

"All right, whatever you say, Leigh." Huffing, Leigh returned to her work, as did the other two, but they wore matching knowing smiles.

Leigh allowed her thoughts to plague her as she washed. She admitted to herself the night before that Daryl had treated her differently from anyone else. But that couldn't possibly mean he liked her, did it? He could have just been pitying her for her bad luck of being the one Shane always picked on. The way he treated her didn't mean anything.

But did she like him? Hell, she sure found him attractive. Four inches taller than her, he was a spectacle. Tanned skin, bright blue eyes, messy sandy blonde hair that always looked unkempt from running his fingers through it. His fingers. Long and nimble, they were a hunter's fingers. They worked easily when they were loading a crossbow or gutting an animal. And his arms. Not heavily muscled but toned nonetheless. His chest was broad and his stomach flat. From the times he didn't button his shirts all the way up, Leigh had noticed a sprinkle of dirty blonde hair on his chest, as well as a nasty scar stretching from one pectoral to the other. It piqued her interest, but a scar like that probably came with a long, sad story and Leigh more than once got the feeling that Daryl Dixon was a man of few words.

The women drove back to camp silently; Lori and Carol had long abandoned their teasing of Leigh, who was still submerged in her thoughts. They hung up the laundry on the line as Daryl returned with his catch of the day—a handful of squirrels and a couple rather large rabbits. Leigh casually glanced over at him, sitting in front of the fire as he dressed each animal for cooking. Her cheeks flushed and she averted her gaze when he looked up and caught her staring.

Lori and Carol exchanged smirks once again, but they kept their mouths shut. They finished the laundry and Leigh walked over to Carl, who was working on some homework Lori had given him.

"Hey bud, how's it going?" she asked as she squatted beside him. He shrugged lazily as he bit the end of his pencil in thought. "Anything I can help with?"

"I miss her," he suddenly said, staring so hard and meaningfully into Leigh's eyes that it almost knocked her on her ass. A frown creased her face as she ran a hand over the boy's hair idly.

"I know, Carl. I do too." Next thing she knew Carl's arms were around her neck, hugging her tightly, and hers were around his tiny frame. He was crying into his shoulder and Leigh wagered that he'd been trying to stay strong for the group, refusing to break down in front of anyone.

The boy's mental strength never ceased to shock the hell out of Leigh, but she felt sympathetic that Carl would never have a real childhood. He wouldn't have birthday parties to attend for his friends, he'd never get to join the little league baseball team. He was forced to spend the rest of his life running and surviving. The boy had grown up far too fast for any ten-year-old.

"I'd take her place if I could," Carl sniffed. Leigh drew back and held his shoulders at arms' length.

"Don't you ever say that, Carl. Never. It was tragic what happened to Sophia, and no one, not even the worst people in the world should go through something like that. How do you think your mother would feel if she heard you say that? It's a noble thing to say, yes, but think, Carl. Your parents would be crushed, just like Carol is."

"But if I took her place then Carol wouldn't always cry herself to sleep at night. I don't like hearing her cry." Leigh smiled and brushed the boy's back from his forehead.

"Sophia was very, very lucky to have a friend like you. _I'm_ very lucky to have a friend like you. You're very wise for your age, and it's not fair that you and Sophia never got a real childhood. Now, how about you help me get some firewood for tonight?" He wiped his eyes and nodded.

"Lori?" Leigh called as she straightened. The petite brunette looked over at the call of her name. "Is it all right if Carl helps me with some firewood? His math problems look good." Lori nodded with a smile and Carl skipped off ahead of Leigh to get started gathering wood.

"Don't go too far, hear?"

Picking up the axe for both chopping wood and defense, Leigh balanced it on her shoulder as she followed Carl into the woods. He was standing by a dead tree, pointing at it excitedly.

"Is this one good?" he asked with a smile. Returning it, Leigh nodded.

"It sure is. Back up now while I chop it down." Carl backed up about twenty feet and Leigh raised the axe, swinging it hard against the bark. The dried wood snapped easily on the first swing, and the tree came tumbling down into the leaves.

"All right bud, can you drag this sucker back to camp?" Carl nodded and picked up the chopped end of the small tree. Carl started off towards camp, easily dragging the tree behind him as Leigh headed in the opposite direction.

That was how it went until the sun began to set; Leigh had chopped down a total of six dead trees and Carl was a trooper and dragged back each and every one on his own. Lori watched her son proudly as Leigh placed a skinnier tree on a mounting log and the ten-year-old promptly jumped up and down on the tree until it snapped in half. He continued with the routine until a pile of foot-long logs sat next to the fire.

"I should have you help me with firewood more often, little man," Leigh joked as she ruffled Carl's hair. The little boy jerked away from her hand but smiled as he chewed his food. Dinner was uneventful; Shane kept his comments to himself—though every time someone said something he didn't agree with, he scowled at his plate—and Daryl had kept his distance.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N:** Thank you to those who reviewed the last chapter. I've responded personally to each one :] Remember guys, if you favorite/alert, please leave a review! We authors like to hear from all the newcomers as much as the regulars :]

**Pentaclaw:** Thank you for your review, although I have to say that my intention with Daryl wasn't to portray him as the Daryl we know from the show. In that aspect I created my own persona for him, one that I liked and was easy enough for me to write about. Though, I will admit that in future stories I'm going to keep to the Daryl that we know from the show.

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><p>October in Georgia came and went, and soon, the days and nights were growing ever colder. Leigh, Daryl, Glenn, and Rick had stocked the group up on cold-weather jackets, blankets, and sleeping bags, and Daryl had kept his promise of teaching Leigh how to properly use her crossbow. She was still hesitant to pull the trigger at anything other than a tree, and her aim was still slightly off, but she was improving to the point of the weapon actually being useful in her hands.<p>

Though, the group had come to a decision just a few days before the beginning of December. The game in the woods around them was becoming more and more scarce, and Daryl had often had to step further away from camp when he went hunting. It was a risk Rick didn't like taking, especially when Daryl went out on his own. He knew the hunter could very much take care of himself in times of trouble, but he wasn't so sure of the man's abilities when it came to a herd of walkers.

"Shane and I have seen them on our scouts on the highway. Now, I don't think they'll find us, but I think it might be best, Daryl, if someone went with you on your hunting trips." Daryl had grown less cold to the group, beginning to partake in conversation at meal time, and he even joined the women down at the pond when it came time to do laundry.

Daryl, who'd originally worn a slight scowl on his face, softened at Rick's suggestion. While he knew the man wasn't doubting his hunting or fighting abilities, he still felt his pride diminish slightly. However, he slowly nodded and agreed to have someone join him.

"All right, so who'll go?" Rick looked around the group; everyone exchanged glances except for Leigh, who was looking down at the frozen ground.

"I'll go," she said, looking up. Rick opened his mouth to disagree but she held up a hand. "Think about it, though. Daryl's been teaching me how to use a crossbow. It's a silent weapon and as far as I know, the two of us are the only people here who know how to load and shoot one."

Rick pursed his lips as he mulled her words over; she'd had a point, but what still worried him was the threat of the herd catching wind of their location. A crossbow was silent, yes, but it was also slow and a hassle to load, and Rick was afraid that neither Daryl nor Leigh would make it out if one of them got hung up trying to load the weapon.

"Rick, I think she's right," quipped Lori as she stood next to her husband. Shane's eyes fell on her momentarily, but it went unnoticed by the group. Sighing, Rick nodded.

"All right. I'll agree to it, so long as Daryl does, too."

"Long as she doesn't make too much noise with them big feet o' hers," he joked, grinning lopsidedly at Leigh as her mouth fell open. The group chuckled as she lightly slapped his shoulder.

"Big feet, my ass. The only part of my feet that you need to worry about is the part that gets shoved up your ass," she shot back with a smile.

"Can you reach?" He laughed as he ducked out of the way of her fist, but it was all in good fun, something Daryl had been alien to in a long time.

"You watch your mouth, Daryl Dixon," Leigh mock-threatened, pointing a finger at him.

Things between Daryl and Leigh had considerably improved and progressed over the months. By being with her almost daily for their crossbow lessons, Daryl had come to find that he didn't mind her presence at all. In fact, they'd even got to talking about their lives before the outbreak. He learned more in depth of her life at school, her life before college, and in turn, he told her about his trips to the hospital on numerous occasions. It wasn't an easy topic for him to discuss, but when he was around her, his mouth had a funny way of beating his brain in speaking before thinking. She'd taken his stories well, never asked questions, and she didn't push for answers that he wasn't quite ready to give. He told her of the relationship he'd had with his father, how he was meaner than his brother Merle and took to becoming violent when he'd had a few drinks in him, how he'd take the leaving of his wife out on his youngest son.

Leigh had stood quietly as he spoke, alternating between telling her what to do with the crossbow and continuing his stories, and she briefly thought back to the scar across his chest. He hadn't mentioned anything about it, but Leigh would put money on it that his father had somehow given the scar to him when he was younger. With Daryl's opening up came a more friendly, more agreeable Daryl, and the entire group was shocked to hear him laugh for the first time since the group had come together. It was a full laugh, one that radiated through his entire body, starting in his chest and ringing out through the trees like some kind of church bell. Immediately the group cast questioning glances at Leigh, but she simply smirked and didn't say anything. Lori and Carol, however, knew better and sent her casual winks.

Spending time with Leigh, one on one, brought out something in Daryl that he'd never thought he'd see again. He was laughing and joking around with the other survivors, he offered to watch Carl when Lori went off to do laundry, and he tried to help the kid as much as he could with his math problems. He and Shane still disagreed, but the arguing between them stopped almost altogether. Daryl participated more in planning with Rick, giving him his best opinion when it was asked for. That in itself was something entirely new to Daryl; not once had anyone ever given a damn to ask his opinion, and now that they were, Daryl almost didn't know how to react: to yell in frustration that things were so rapidly changing or to hug each and every one of the survivors for actually including him in something that didn't deal with scavenging or hunting.

Of course, some parts of the old Daryl still remained. He was still a loose cannon when his short fuse was lit, but everyone saw less and less of that temper as the days went on—there simply wasn't anything to spark it. It was a refreshing sight to be had, not having to worry about Daryl going off if someone so much as looked at him in what he considered was the wrong way.

He hated to admit it, out loud or even to himself, but it was because of Leigh that he was finding these changes. He could hear Merle in the back of his head every time she so much as smiled at him.

_Yer a fuckin' pussy if yer lettin' a woman take ya away from everythin' you know, lil' brother._ He'd tried as hard as he could to shut Merle out, but always his brother's voice showed itself when Daryl was least expecting it.

Daryl took Leigh out on her first hunting trip a day after it had been agreed that she would join him. He packed them a tent and two sleeping bags, as well as plenty of water and a few snacks to hold them over. He told her to wear heavy socks and her boots, and she complied. She also threw on the heavy black jacket that she'd picked up the last time they went scavenging.

"I feel like a fuckin' penguin," she muttered when she stepped out of her cabin. The jacket, combined with three layers underneath, made her look like a big black puff ball. When she walked, she almost waddled unsteadily. Daryl couldn't contain his laughter as he looked at her, and she found herself laughing along with him rather than getting mad.

They set out shortly after that and Daryl took them far beyond the boundaries Rick and the others had set. Game had stopped coming so close to the encampment as the days grew colder, and they'd had no other choice but to stretch further out. Daryl didn't like it, especially if they had to get back to camp in a hurry, but it was either that or they had to move locations, which would have been harder to do.

They'd had little luck on the first day; Daryl had caught sight of a few wild turkeys and had taken down one out of the entire flock. That night, he strung the turkey up high in a tree to avoid having it taken by a bear. When he voiced this, Leigh's throat went dry.

"Bears?" she asked. She cleared her throat to give the impression that she wasn't scared, but out of all animals, bears scared her the most. Daryl saw her apprehension and he offered her a small smile as they sat out by the fire.

"Just black bears, Leigh, and they're more scared of us than we are of them." He poked at the fire with a stick, letting the end catch fire before dropping it. That thought didn't comfort Leigh as she inconspicuously shuffled slightly closer to Daryl. The hunter was all too aware of the movement though, and he felt his fingers on his left hand twitch with the urge to wrap an arm around her.

That night, Leigh didn't sleep so well despite being so close to Daryl. The idea of a black bear finding their camp and mauling them to death kept her awake, and she tossed and turned throughout the night. At one point, she bumped Daryl's shoulder, who'd found sleep in no time, and he groggily snapped at her to go to sleep. She tried, but she still couldn't put her mind to rest.

Sitting up, she got out of her sleeping bag and slid into her boots, rummaging through her bag for her cigarettes. Unzipping the tent, Leigh looked back at Daryl to make sure he hadn't woken from the noise; he hadn't. She stepped out into the frigid night air and fumbled with the box of cigarettes. She stuffed the rest into her pocket after shoving one in her mouth. Her frozen fingers fought to flick the lighter, and she greedily inhaled the nicotine when the cigarette was lit.

Exhaling, Leigh watched the smoke float upwards and disappear into the air. The nicotine calmed her body down, but her mind was still abuzz with thoughts of black bears. The fire had died down to just embers and Leigh stared blankly at it as she smoked.

"Evenin'," said a voice from behind her.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N:** So I remembering saying something about this being around 30 chapters. Well, that just plain isn't going to happen. In fact, this story doesn't have much left to it. I'll be damned lucky if I even reach 20 chapters. However, I _am_ going to write an epilogue, and a sequel has been taken into consideration. Who knows, maybe I'll do an entire series based on this? We'll see how school goes. Speaking of, I moved back in today, and thankfully, I don't have to wake up -too- early for any of my classes this week, so I'll try and get the rest of this written and posted by...Thursday hopefully, at the latest.

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><p>Leigh whipped around, dropping the cigarette and freezing in place. She could barely see in the darkness, but the obvious sound of footsteps drawing closer put her on edge. Her crossbow was inside the tent and it was not an option. She followed the stranger with her body as he came closer to the fire, refusing to turn her back on him.<p>

"Evening," she muttered in reply. The man invited himself to squat down on his haunches by the fire, picking up Daryl's stick and prodding the flames to return. "Can I help you?"

"You don't mind if I warm myself by your fire, do ya?" The man's voice was gruff, and it fit his appearance. Much older than Leigh, the man had a greying beard that hid most of his fast and wild hair of a similar shade that poked out from underneath a bright orange hunter's hat. He wore a camouflage vest and pants and dark hunting boots and before he'd sat down Leigh caught the glimmer of a hunting knife at his hip.

"Don't have much of a choice, do I?" she said, shocking herself. The stranger's eyes widened slightly as well, but then he smirked and Leigh felt discomfort and a nagging premonition in the bottom of her stomach. In her head she prayed for Daryl to wake up.

"Now, what's a pretty young thing like you doin' out here all by your lonesome?" he asked in a tone that could only be described as uncomfortable.

"Huntin'," she replied automatically. The man's expression didn't change and Leigh set her jaw, her fists clenching at her sides.

"Huntin'? You? Alone?" The man tried to peer around her at the tent behind her, as if he could see Daryl sleeping inside. He smiled, his dark teeth shining in the light.

"Yes sir." Leigh swallowed nervously as the man's lip curled back again in a sneer.

Inside the tent, Daryl stirred. He came to conscious long enough to hear voices outside the tent and he sat up slowly. One was Leigh's and the other voice he didn't recognize—or trust. The man was attempting to make conversation with her, asking where she was from, who she was with, and why she was alone. She'd dodged each question easily, reciprocating with her own questions. The man said his name was Ted, and he'd lost his family a few days ago after a group of geeks terrorized their camp.

Staying quiet, Daryl sat back and listened for any sign of trouble aside from the man outside. He didn't hear anything out of the ordinary except the light crackle of the fire and Leigh's voice as she tried to fabricate stories to satisfy Ted. The girl knew how to work, he thought as he reached for his hunting knife. He was prepared to attack if needs be, crouched behind the door of the tent.

"I thank you for your hospitality, Miss…?" Ted said as he stood up.

"You're welcome, Ted," she replied quickly as she stood up too, avoiding giving her name on purpose.

Ted smiled knowingly before nodding his head and heading off into the woods, his footsteps heavy and loud. Leigh waited for them to fade and disappear before letting out the breath she'd been holding the entire time he was there. Daryl stepped out a minute later, hunting knife sheathed.

"Who the hell was that?" he asked quietly, leaning down to her ear. Leigh shivered at the feeling of his breath on her skin, but she played it off like it was just the chilly night air.

"I have no idea, but the whole time he gave me a funny feeling." Both were staring off in the direction Ted had gone, as if waiting for him to come back. When he didn't five full minutes later, Daryl wrapped an arm over Leigh's shoulder and guided her towards the tent.

"Try n' get some sleep. I'll stay awake and listen in case he decides to come back." Nodding, Leigh settled down into her sleeping bag, facing Daryl. He sat up with his elbows on his knees, chewing his lip and watching the tent door. Yawning, she closed her eyes and attempted to fall asleep.

This time, though, her mind wasn't filled with raging black bears. It was filled with Ted and his creepy smile.

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><p>Ted sat dormant behind a large oak, keeping watch on the tiny campsite. He knew that girl hadn't been alone. Despite her speaking, he'd heard the rustle of the sleeping bags inside, but he didn't know who was with her.<p>

Despite himself, he smiled, a sick, twisted curling of his lips that spoke nothing of good things. The girl was fit for her age; a little on the short side but he couldn't be picky. Besides, he thought, she had a rack and an ass from what he could see that would make up for the height problem.

Scout would have fun with her, he reckoned, when the time came. He knew that the girl wouldn't stay put in the same spot after meeting him—he could see the suspicion in her eyes—and he was prepared to track them until they were just where he needed them, no matter how long it took, because eventually, they'd fall right into his trap.

He waited for the inevitable sound of a zipper closing before he continued his trek back to the base he'd set up with Scout and Agnes. The two of them were sitting at the fire when he returned, fighting over a piece of meat from their latest kill. Agnes was snarling like something right out of the wild, trying to scare Scout into letting it go. But the other man held on tightly, retaliating with his own animalistic hiss.

"Oh would you two knock it off?" he growled as he laid a swift kick into Scout's thigh. The younger man let out a small yelp, like a dog, and stared wide-eyed up at Ted. "You two 're actin' like a couple o' wild dogs."

He walked by them without another look and rolled his eyes when he heard them start up again. Pulling off his hunting hat, he glanced back at Scout.

"Got a treat for ya, Scout." Scout perked up and meandered over, holding out his hands. Ted shook his head and waved him away. "Not yet. Soon, though, I promise." Whining, Scout hobbled back over to Agnes, who'd won the war involving the meat and was chewing happily.

Ted, meanwhile, disappeared into his tent and laid down on the sleeping pad. Laying an arm over his eyes, Ted sighed. He'd met up with Scout and Agnes not long after he'd escaped hell in Tennessee. They were fighting over a dog that Agnes had hunted and shot—back when either of them were at least semi-human. Since he'd been with the two of them though, Scout and Agnes were a step above Neanderthal. They fed on whatever they could get their hands on—bugs, rabbits, and humans. At first, they'd attacked Ted, but he weaseled his way out of being eaten alive by compromising with the two of them—let him stay, unharmed, and he'd get them all the meat he could find.

When the cold set in and meat became scarce, Scout and Agnes were getting more and more irritable and were seconds away from tearing Ted apart. But, once again, he gave them the promise of meat and they backed off. Tonight, he'd managed to snag them a woodchuck and he tossed it to them as he went off in search of more before he became the main course.

Ted sighed. He knew he was at least a little crazy if he trusted a pair of cannibals enough not to harm him, but Ted had always had a way with words, and he easily persuaded them. It was a silly little trade-off: he fed and protected them from walkers and they didn't eat him alive.

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><p>The next morning, Daryl scouted the area for any sign of the stranger who'd appeared last night. He found a pair of tracks leading northwest, but the trail quickly went cold. Leigh waited back at the camp site, packing everything away. She was just rolling up the tent when Daryl returned.<p>

"Anything?" she asked fearfully. Her frown grew when he shook his head, his lips pursed and an irritated look in his eyes.

"Trail went cold," he grumbled, helping her to stuff the tent back into the backpack. He glanced over at her, fiddling with her fingers as she looked around the woods. "Hey. He's gone."

His words did little to comfort her, but she nodded anyways. Throwing the pack onto her shoulder, she let Daryl lead the way. Her nerves still buzzed through her body; she felt it in her fingertips down to her toes. Her eyes and ears were more alert than ever, as if she was expecting Ted to show up out of nowhere once again.

In front of her, Daryl could _feel_ her tension and he stopped and turned around to face her. Not paying attention, Leigh ran straight into his chest and his arms shot out to her shoulders to steady her.

"Listen Leigh," he started, bending forward to look her right in the eye. "Ya need to calm down. He's gone. He headed in the complete opposite direction than us. And even if he did pop up outta nowhere, there's no way in hell that I'm gonna let him hurt ya. 'Kay?"

Leigh sighed, her warm breath hitting his face. He closed his eyes briefly before he realized what he was doing and played it off as a blink. He smiled when she nodded, offering him a small smile in return.

He lowered his hands from her shoulders, but instead grabbing one of her hands in his own as a reassuring gesture. It was tiny and pale compared to his own, and he guessed that she hadn't spent much time out in the sun while she was at school.

Leigh tried to control her heart rate when Daryl took her hand. His skin was warm against hers, and he gave a small squeeze when he felt her fingers tremble. The tips of his fingers were calloused from tending to his crossbow and he had a tan at least two shades darker than hers—or lack thereof. His touch was slightly reassuring to an extent, but that nagging omen in the back of her head was ever present, warning her here and there to keep her eyes peeled.

Despite the sun bearing down on the pair as they trekked across a game trail, the slight breeze had a biting chill to it, causing Leigh to shiver more than occasionally. In the past two days while on their trip, Daryl had managed to snag only a simple wild turkey, and they hadn't seen any more game—not even squirrels. It was strange, and it confused Leigh just as much as it did Daryl.

"Why haven't we seen anything?" she asked uselessly. Her nerves were still going haywire, and the silence of the forest wasn't doing anything to help. Daryl cast her a glance over his shoulder.

"I don't know, but I don't like it."

"You and me both." The two continued on silently, avoiding any fallen branches or twigs. Leigh's eyes darted left and right, searching for anything that could be considered out of the ordinary.

Just as they came to a cluster of trees, Daryl was suddenly struck over the head and knocked unconscious. Before Leigh could scream, though, a cloth was clamped over her mouth and seconds later everything went black.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N:** So this story doesn't have much left to it; if I had to guess, I'd say maybe one or two more chapters. I'm not sure when I'll start working on the sequel; it may wait until I've completed my Boondock Saints story. I'll have to sort through some new ideas to throw into it. As for the BDS story, I'm going to begin working on that shortly after I finish writing the rest of this one.

Also, I have an idea for a second Daryl Dixon story, which I'll be sorting out ideas for probably tonight.

Thank yous to the non-member reviews are below.

**Laura:** Thank you for your review! I was lacking in cliffhangers so I had to make up somehow ;)

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><p>Back at the encampment, Andrea stood at the edge of the cabins, looking out into the trees in the direction Daryl and Leigh had gone two days before. It was normal for Daryl to be out on his own for a couple of days, but something deep in Andrea's stomach was telling her that something wasn't right. When she'd told both Dale and Rick of her fears, they'd heeded her warning but told her that she didn't need to worry about Leigh and that she was in good hands with Daryl.<p>

Andrea knew Daryl was more than capable of looking after both Leigh and himself, but still, she didn't ignore the warning in the back of her head. She began pacing back and forth between two trees, her gun in the waistband of her jeans and her eyes focused on the forest beyond.

"Andrea." The blonde stopped pacing but she didn't acknowledge Dale as the older man approached her. "Andrea, I'm sure they're absolutely fine."

"I know, Dale," she snapped, resuming her pacing. "But something's telling me that they aren't. I don't know what it is or what could have happened. I just have a really bad feeling."

Dale watched the woman in front of him helplessly. When Andrea had an idea in her head, it was damn hard to get her to just drop it on the spot. While he, too, was uneasy with Daryl and Leigh's absence, he wasn't nearly as obvious or as vocal about it. Like Andrea, he considered Leigh to be almost like a daughter to him, and he knew that Andrea had seen Amy in Leigh and had thus grown attached to college student from Kentucky.

Dale sighed and placed a hand on Andrea's shoulder, stopping her in her tracks. She turned frustrated eyes on him but Dale didn't flinch.

"How about this? If you still feel like this and they're not back tomorrow morning, I'll ask Rick to send a couple of us out there to look for them?" he asked, smiling slightly. Andrea exhaled heavily through her nose but nodded anyways. At least they'd be doing something about it, she thought, rather than just sitting here acting like everything was all right.

Even Carl was wondering where Leigh was. Shane had taken over firewood duty and didn't let Carl come along to do his job of dragging trees and snapping them in half, leaving the ten-year-old to himself and his math problems.

Dale wandered over to Rick, who was overseeing another scavenging trip with Glenn. Both looked up when the older man stood in front of them.

"Andrea's not letting up," he said lowly, warily. Rick and Glenn glanced at the blonde standing at the edge of the cabins. "I told her that if she still had her bad feeling tomorrow morning and they still weren't back, we'd send someone out after them."

Rick sighed. "Dale, we don't even know where to look. We know the general direction they went, but that's about it. They could have gone in any other direction after that. I think it's best that we just wait for them to get back."

Dale exhaled slowly. "Tell that to Andrea."

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><p>Daryl groaned as he came to, moving his arm to rub his head. He stopped and panicked for a minute when he realized he was tied to a tree and that his arm was tied behind his back. He tugged on the ropes, which had been wound around the tree and wrapped around his neck—just so no funny business could occur.<p>

"The fuck?" he asked, coughing as he tugged a little harder on the ropes binding his hands. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a body shifting, stiffening instantly.

"Daryl?" He sighed and relaxed as he recognized Leigh's voice, looking over at her. "Are you all right?"

"Been better," he grunted. Not even a hangover brought on by old Ned Burton's handmade moonshine felt this bad, he thought. He'd kill for a jar of it now. "What happened?"

"God, I don't know. Last thing I remember is you getting knocked out and then I passed out." Her voice was frantic and Daryl hushed her.

"It's all right, we're all right. Where are we?" He took a look around. Two tents had been set up and a fire was slowly dying, reduced to just coals and smoke. Other than that, there was no sign of activity. Daryl did a double-take when his gaze swept over an area next to the fire, where the ground was stained dark with something. Squinting his eyes, Daryl cursed as he discovered the dark stain was blood.

"What?" Leigh's voice was frantic, and Daryl didn't answer her as he avoided her eyes. Leigh panicked again, her voice hysterical, and Daryl quickly hushed her.

"Hey, listen to me. I told ya there ain't no way in hell that I'm gonna let 'em hurt ya. I wasn't lyin' when I said it and I ain't lyin' now. But ya need ta' calm down and let me think o' somethin'." Even across the campsite he could see tears on her face and he groaned, trying to conjure up some kind of plan.

He ran out of time, though, when footfalls drew his and Leigh's attention. Ted stood there, a sickly grin on his face as he looked between the two people tied.

"Well, yer both in a bit o' a pickle, ain't ya?" he howled, slapping his knees as if this were all some big practical joke. Daryl glared and grit his teeth, struggling against the ropes. Ted chuckled as he walked over towards the hunter. "Quit tuggin' on them ropes, boy, otherwise you'll miss the fun."

"What fun?" Daryl coughed, leaning away from Ted as the older man bent down.

"Oh you'll see a'right. Scout! Agnes!"

Just then two scraggly people came dashing out from behind a cluster of bushes. They were hobbling, bent over, and it reminded Leigh of Igor from _Frankenstein_. She struggling against her binds as the woman, Agnes, crept closer to her, drooling and staring with a rabid, hungry look in her eye.

"Hey! Agnes, I told ya, not yet. Let Scout have his fun with her first." In five long strides, Ted was beside her, kneeling down to cut her loose. Immediately she tried to run off but Ted quickly laid a kick to the back of her knee, and she fell face-first into the leaves.

"Now, now. Can't have ya runnin' off can we? I'll just take care o' that."

Daryl let out a shout as he saw the glimmer of the knife in Ted's hand—_his_ knife. The bastard did well in checking him over for weapons. In one quick stroke, he drove the knife down into Leigh's calf. Daryl closed his eyes helplessly as she let out an agonized cry. Blood stained her jeans and she reached back in an attempt to quell the blood flow, but Ted quickly disabled her hands, binding them together above her head.

Then he whistled for the man—Scout, he'd called him—who quickly ran over, his tongue lolling out his mouth like some kind of dog. He ran his hands down Leigh's body, starting with her face and ending at her toes. He took extra time stopping at places in between, adding fuel to Daryl's fiery temper.

The hunter fought against his binds, ignoring the tightening of the rope around his neck. Scout repeated his actions, this time with his tongue. Leigh shrieked in terror and tried to flinch away, but with her hands tied and her wound, the movement was almost impossible. Daryl gritted his teeth as he began twisting his hands, trying to work the rope over them. It dug into the skin on his wrists, shredding it with every twist, and he bit back cries of pain.

His actions went unnoticed by the three on the other side of the camp. Ted was too busy keeping Leigh from rolling away and watching Scout as the man took his precious time in fawning over Leigh. Agnes was hopping around the three in excited circles at the prospect of a fresh meal.

Daryl continued to work and as he did, he looked around the camp for anything that could potentially be used as a weapon. The only thing he saw nearby was a coffee pot between the tents. Sighing, he almost cheered when he felt one of his fingers slip through the rope.

Leigh shook in terror as Scout continued his assault on her body. He took his sweet time licking and touching parts of her that made her recoil. His hand dipped between her legs, and she lifted one, the injured one, in a half-assed attempt to kick him away, but Ted's booted foot came down hard on her ankle. She felt the bones crunch, knowing she'd have at least a fracture when all of this was over. She looked over at Daryl, who was struggling against the ropes, silently urging him to look over.

As if he read her thoughts, he met her eyes and the air left his lungs like he'd been kicked in the gut. She looked so utterly terrified, laying there helplessly, looking at him for help when he obviously couldn't give it. He ground his teeth and bit back another cry as another finger slipped through the rope. His wrists were burning and probably bleeding, but he pressed on until he had an entire hand free.

Leigh watched him, knew what he was doing as he occasionally closed his eyes and ground his teeth. He gestured for her to keep quiet as he pulled himself free of the ropes, standing quietly and tiptoeing around the camp to the tents. She closed her eyes and yelped as Scout bit down on her neck, drawing blood and lapping it up with his tongue.

Her leg had gone numb and she'd begun feeling lightheaded from the loss of blood. Ted took notice of this and quickly whipped out a needle, jabbing it into her thigh and pushing down the plunger. Almost immediately Leigh was awake again and thrashing. Adrenaline. The bastard had given her adrenaline so she couldn't pass out. Fresh tears blurred her vision as she slowly felt Scout cutting away at her long-sleeved shirt. Daryl was of sight and Leigh wondered for a moment if he'd gone back to camp.

No, she thought. He wouldn't leave her here alone with these maniacs. She ground her teeth, goosebumps appearing all over her torso as it was bared to the chilly afternoon air. Scout's eyes grew as wide as saucers as he looked her over, his tongue flapping wildly.

_Just get it over with_, she thought futilely. Scout bared his teeth, most of them missing, but the remainder were black and unhealthy, and he lowered his head to her neck, prepared to take a bite out of her.

Daryl crept quietly up behind Ted and swung the coffee pot as hard as he could. It took him three more swings to knock Ted fully unconscious, and his body toppled over. Scout and Agnes jumped up in shock, screeching like banshees. Wielding his knife, Daryl made a dive for Scout. The little weasel wasn't quick enough and the wind was knocked out of him as Daryl's hit made solid contact. Without another thought Daryl drove his knife into Scout's neck, spouting blood all over himself, the leaves, and Scout. The man beneath him sputtered for a whole of two minutes before the blood loss finally beat him out, and Scout lay lifeless.

Turning a wild, animalistic glare at Agnes, Daryl leaped up, but Agnes took off before he could make any more moves. He thought about hitting her in the back with his knife, but he realized that she would no longer be a threat.

His attention was drawn suddenly to Leigh, who was shaking uncontrollably on the ground. He cut the rope tying her wrists together and the air left his lungs in a _whoosh_ as she all but tackled him in a tight embrace. His arms wound around her, holding her immobile against him.

She cried into his chest, panting his name over and over again. He ran his hands over her hair, down her back, making sure that he wasn't just dreaming. For the first time in years, Daryl felt tears at the corners of his eyes, but he'd be damned if he let them fall.

His mind suddenly jolted back to the situation at hand. Pulling away, he tugged his thermal shirt over his head and dropped it onto hers. She pulled the rest over her body and he attempted to help her stand, but her leg was useless; she'd lost too much blood and had no balance whatsoever. The bleeding hadn't stopped just yet, though it wasn't as heavy as earlier. Reaching for her torn shirt, Daryl wrapped it around her leg just above the wound, tying it tightly despite her nails digging into his shoulders.

"Are ya all right? Well, 'sides the leg?" he asked as he straightened. He had his hands on her shoulders, steadying her. Her eyes were bloodshot and wide, fearful, but she nodded. He mirrored it and without another word or thought, he brought his mouth down on hers.

Taken by surprise, Leigh's eyes widened briefly but she gave in to his kiss, closing her eyes and relishing in the feel of his mouth moving over hers. The kiss was slow but firm, and he pulled away a few seconds later.

"Let's go before this bastard wakes up." Nodding, Leigh used his shoulder for leverage and together they began hopping through the woods back to camp.

"Where's your crossbow?" she asked suddenly, noticing that hers was missing as well. Daryl frowned, helping her over a fallen log.

"Bastard snapped 'em in two." Leigh sighed and apologized for Daryl's "loss", knowing how attached to the weapon he'd been. "Yeah, well, it's one less thing to slow us down."


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: **Wow, do I suck or what? I really, really am sorry for the lateness on this. For the past, like, week I've had absolutely no inspiration to get out another chapter. I was going to make this a little longer, but I decided to split chapters eighteen and nineteen. Thank you to **ItalianBreadstick** and **Alina Maxwell** for reviewing the last chapter. I didn't get around this time to responding personally, but there ya go. To be 100% honest, I'm not sure when the last two chapters for this story will be out and I'm not going to promise a date if I can't stick to it. We'll see what happens.

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><p>Andrea was inches away from going after Daryl and Leigh on her own. Rick had come to her the day before and told her exactly what he'd told Dale; needless to say, she hadn't taken the news well and went on a bit of a rampage down by the pond. When she came back, Rick and Glenn were just pulling into the site, skidding to a stop. Glenn leaped out and yelled for everyone to pack up.<p>

"What's going on?" Andrea asked after jogging over to them. Glenn was panting and wiping sweat from his forehead with his hat before helping Lori pack up the picnic table.

"Walkers. Tons of them. They're heading this way." Andrea's heart plummeted into her stomach as she quickly went around to each of the cabins, packing everything up.

As she hiked a plastic bin into the back of Shane's SUV, she stopped. "Wait! What about Leigh and Daryl?"

"We don't have time to sit around and wait," Shane barked as he shouldered her out of the way. He shoved her bin in and quickly threw three bags in behind it. Andrea glared at him and was about to protest, but Shane quickly picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder.

He sat her in the passenger seat of his SUV, buckled her in, and pointed a finger strictly at her with an order to stay put. He turned back to the rest of the group, and Rick looked torn as he faced everyone.

"We can't just leave them out here with nothing. If and when they do come back, they'll be wondering where we are. We'll leave them with a vehicle and their belongings, as well as a CB and a road map so they can find us again. But now, we have to move. Let's finish packin'."

Carl had begun to cry quietly as Lori pushed him lightly towards their Cherokee. Carol climbed in with him and held him to her side, but she was fighting off her own tears as well. Andrea, however, didn't bother hiding them as she sat in Shane's SUV, fuming with a tear-stained face. He didn't look at her as he climbed in and turned the engine over. Outside, Rick was laying a map and a CB on the picnic table, as well as a handwritten note explaining the sudden departure.

The rest of them piled into their vehicles, and Glenn sent a last, long look at the woods, before each engine roared to life and the caravan moved out. They turned left when they hit the freeway, the horde visible over rise to the right. Glenn hands shook in his lap as he acted as navigator once again for Dale. He neither liked nor completely agreed to the idea of leaving Daryl and Leigh behind, but it was a necessary decision; they couldn't very well stay and risk the rest of the group because the two hunters hadn't returned.

Andrea, meanwhile, was fuming beside Shane, who hadn't spoken to or looked at her since he'd thrown her into the passenger seat. She sat stiffly, with her arms crossed over her chest, glaring daggers out the window. If looks could kill, the glass would be shattered—and Shane would be six feet under.

"You just gonna stay mad?" Shane finally asked without looking at her. She exhaled heavily beside him and crossed her arms tighter over her chest. "I'll take that as a yes. Look, I don't like it any more than you do—"

"Cut the bull shit, Shane," Andrea snapped, turning her glare on him. He didn't even flinch as he looked over. "You and I both know you never liked Dixon from the start, and then when Leigh showed up you seemed to hate her too. So don't give me that bull shit. You're just fucking happy we have two fewer mouths to feed and asses to cover."

Her voice had risen in volumes until she was almost completely shouting; she hadn't vented out her anger, and yelling at Shane seemed like the perfect way to do so. She fought off a triumphant smirk when Shane sighed beside her.

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel; Andrea was right. Dixon, in his mind, was a poor excuse for a man, whose only value to the group rested in his ability to hunt for them. On the other hand, he could barely comprehend how Leigh had managed to even survive as long as she had. Fuck, she froze up every time a walker even had her in its sights.

Except for the two that had found their way to camp. As if Leigh had some kind of epiphany, she'd jumped right into action, leaving him to watch over Lori and Carl. He refused to admit that she'd saved their asses while he just sat idly by, even though that was exactly what he'd done. He was more than pissed with himself for letting a college student show up a police officer in the line of defense. It was outrageous.

The caravan pressed on until the sun began to set and Dale pulled the RV over at Rick's request. The deputy spread the map across the hood of his car and everyone headed over for his lecture. Shane stood beside him, hands on his hips. Even now, he thought the idea of Fort Benning was better than continuing west into land that none of them had any knowledge about.

When he interrupted Rick, the shorter man turned a frustrated gaze and a clenched jaw on him. Shane held his hands up in defense and took a small step back.

"Now, I'm not sure how I feel about driving off into some land that we know nothin' about." Rick sighed and turned away, but Shane was quick to stop him. "We have no idea what it's like out there. I still say we head to Ft. Benning instead."

"And how are we supposed to know what Ft. Benning is like?" Rick retorted. Lately, his patience with his former partner had worn thin. Shane had done nothing but question Rick's decisions left and right, and now, doing so once again, the younger cop was treading on thin ice. "Ft. Benning could be gone for all we know."

"So we're gonna waste gas and time by headin' out west when we don't know what's out there?" Shane challenged. Lori watched the two men uneasily; she knew the once friendly, almost brotherly relationship the two once shared was quickly and definitely fading as they battled for dominance of the group.

"It's better than walkin' into a death trap with no way out at Benning if it's overrun." Rick's voice held a note of finality before he turned back to the map on the hood.

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><p>Ted came to sometime later. The back of his head was throbbing; wincing, he reached back to lightly touch his fingers to the wound and pulled back fingers stained red. The fucking redneck managed to actually knock him out with a coffee pot. Grunting, Ted realized he'd severely underestimated the redneck's survival and fighting abilities. Hauling himself into a push-up position, Ted was slow to get to his feet. His head was still bleeding and it throbbed something awful.<p>

He stopped as his eyes fell on the bloody body in front of him. Scout's mouth and eyes were wide open, the dead pupils staring blankly up at the sky. A huge gnarly gash ran from his collarbone almost to his ear on the right side. Blood slowly seeped from the wound, and it stained Scout's tattered clothing and the leaves beneath his body. Stricken with fear, Ted looked around the area, though Agnes was nowhere to be seen.

What he did see, though, was a group of six walkers ambling about between the trees. Ted's breath became shallow as he attempted to lift himself to his feet, but his mind spun with dizziness as he straightened. Holding his head, Ted kept an eye on the walkers, though one of them had caught sight of him and was beginning its trek towards him. He felt the color draining from his face as he looked about the campsite.

_Fuck_, he cursed. The redneck had taken his knife! And their crossbows were completely useless. The small herd of walkers had followed the "leader" and, despite their sluggish pace, they were gaining on Ted. Without a second thought, the burly man began crashing through the brush in the opposite direction. His head still pounded painfully, and a couple of thorn bushes snagged on his flannel shirt, but still he fought to get away.

The walkers were about twenty feet behind him now, their rotten arms stretched out in front of them and their jaws moving hungrily. Glancing behind him, Ted roughly pulled his shirt free of the thorns and kept running, leaping over fallen logs and splashing through muddy puddles.

The next time he glanced back, his booted foot caught on a prominent root and he flew forward, falling face-first down a muddy slope. He let out a yelp as his boot remained stuck above him, caught between the root and the ground and twisted at an awkwardly painful angle. He felt the pain before he felt the pop as his ankle dislocated from its socket. Crying out loudly, Ted turned his body to the side in an attempt to free his foot, but the movement only furthered his ankle's dislocation as he spun around. His legs were far too long for him to reach up, and he was nowhere near peak physical condition to bend backwards.

The first walker drove him nearly to insanity as he yanked his leg forward, persisting in worsening his injury. The walker was a teenager, wearing a tattered flannel shirt similar to Ted's and dark, dirty jeans. His sneakers had holes in them, but what really frightened Ted was the missing skin around the boy's mouth, revealing the black and rotten teeth that were chomping in his direction.

"Fuck, oh fuck," Ted cried as the walker drew closer, two more heads appearing behind it. He tugged painfully on his leg, emitting another loud yelp as the tendons pulled achingly.

The teenage walker snarled as it bent forward and took hold of Ted's calf, the latter crying out in both horror and pain as those rotten teeth pierced his flesh. He felt the skin, muscles, and tendons tear away from his bone as the other walkers closed in around him and dug in.

Ted's screams echoed across the span of the forest, bouncing off trees, rattling leaves, and sending rabbits and squirrels scurrying for cover.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N:** So...has it been a while or what? I apologize excessively for being so late with this. I've really been lacking in the muse department lately. Mostly it's schoolwork and just trying to keep up my energy. I've felt so _drained_lately and I haven't really been doing anything strenuous except for exercise Mondays and Wednesdays for class. Maybe my sleeping schedule is off or something? I've been going to bed pretty late and then I sleep Mondays-Wednesdays and Fridays until about 10ish since I don't have class until after 12 on those days. It might be too much sleep. Who knows?

Anyways, I'll (hopefully) get to working on the epilogue for this story tonight if I don't decide to slack off and fall off the face of the earth for another month or so. This is the last _real_ chapter of this story. As for CH18 reviews, I'll respond here:

**85: Thank you for your review! I don't live in the South, so yeah, I wouldn't really know what the winters are like down in say, Florida. All I know is good ol' New England weather. Lucky me, huh? I'm so happy you're liking this!**

**Sierra (non-member): Thank you! I tried to keep it as realistic as possible, and mostly, (I can admit this shamelessly) Leigh's reactions to the walkers is more than likely how I would act in the face of this kind of situation. Haha, I too would love to be a bad-ass zombie killer ;D**

**Alina Maxwell: Thank you!**

**ItalianBreadstick: Yeah, life surely has gotten in the way these past few weeks. I've been adding sentences here and there, but for the most part, it wasn't anything major to really move the story along. Of course, I had to give Ted his come-uppins. Every bad guy does and for Ted to simply survive the apocalypse would be truly, truly unacceptable.**

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><p>Leigh and Daryl trekked through the woods as the sun began its descent behind the trees. Leigh's leg hadn't improved, unsurprisingly, and her limp was getting worse. The tourniquet was stained fully red now, but the bleeding had mostly quelled shortly after they began their journey back to camp. Walkers had been absent from the woods for the most part, and the ones they did encounter were few and far between, and they hid easily enough. Daryl hated being without a weapon, especially when Leigh was hurt and her blood was probably stinking up the entire forest. Her face had gone pale from blood loss and she'd had to take more and more breaks than before. Her strength was clearly waning, and he wasn't sure how long she could go on before succumbing to too much blood loss.<p>

"How much further?" she panted as she pressed a hand tightly to her side as cramps set in. They'd been walking almost nonstop since this morning, aside from the many pit stops she'd had to make. Her muscles were screaming in agony, her head was spinning, and she was sure she couldn't walk in a straight line.

"Not sure," came Daryl's short reply, but as he cast a glance at her, his features softened. "Think ya can hold on fer a bit longer?" Sighing, Leigh nodded and leaned against a fallen log. She winced as her muscles fought to relax and looked down at the wound on her leg. Her jeans were stained around the tourniquet and the sight alone nearly made her lose her stomach. Daryl stepped closer to her and brushed a strand of her hair away from her face.

"We need ta keep goin', Leigh. I know it's rough and yer hurtin', but we gotta get back to camp. Sooner we do, sooner we can get ya patched up," he said reassuringly, emphasizing his point with a lingering kiss on her forehead. "Come on, lean yer weight on me."

He helped her to stand as she relieved a sigh and rested her head on his shoulder. Her arm went around his waist and his around her shoulder, and together they hobbled closer to camp.

Just as the sun was disappearing, Daryl tugged Leigh hurriedly into a patch of bushes, hushing her when she opened her mouth in protest.

"Walkers. Big group o' 'em. Stay quiet." That was all she needed to hear as the moans and groans of the walkers drew nearer. Peering through the leaves on the bush, Leigh could make out about twenty walkers coming from their left. One of them lifted its head, which had a sizeable chunk of skull missing, and looked around. It'd apparently picked up the scent of a fresh meal, but it couldn't find the source.

Leigh shifted nervously as the walker circled a tree, its nose in the air and a hungry look in its eye. It turned in their direction and Leigh's blood ran cold. Daryl didn't look at her, but instead gave her hand a reassuring squeeze as his gaze stayed on the walker drawing closer. At the last possible second, it turned and headed for a squirrel that had made the mistake of coming down from its tree. It groaned as it chased after it, urging a few of the others to do the same.

Leigh let out a breath as the walkers gave chase to a measly squirrel, and once the moans and groans had faded to silence, Daryl pulled her to her feet.

"We've got to tell the others there's a herd wandering about when we get back," Leigh stated needlessly. Daryl nodded and resumed his position as her crutch and two hurried off.

The sky was dark by the time the pair reached the camp, though it wasn't late enough for them to go to bed. Leigh exchanged a look with Daryl as they came upon the site, fireless and empty.

"The hell…" Daryl muttered as he went around to each cabin. When he came back, Leigh was hovering over the picnic table, which was littered with various survival items. There was a flashlight, a few canned goods that the group could spare, a few water bottles, soap, a knife, some rope, and a first aid kit that acted as a paperweight for the note underneath.

"They left. They saw the herd and they left." Leigh's voice was stale, emotionless, until she saw the road map on the table with a red circle around their site and a line showing the direction they'd gone. "They let us know where they're headed, at least. And a vehicle." Carol's Cherokee sat in the makeshift driveway idly.

"Can't leave tonight. Need to get you stitched up and rested. We'll head out in the mornin'," Daryl said, scooping up the items on the table and stowing them in the car. "Come on." He helped her into the backseat, minding her injured leg.

"No cabin?" she asked as she lay down across the seat. Daryl shook his head.

"'F that herd wanders back here, we don't want 'em sneakin' up on us. Least in the car, it's safer. Dumbasses can't open doors." He pulled out the first aid kit and opened it. It had a complete suture set, but Daryl had no medical training whatsoever. Whenever he or Merle was injured on a hunting trip, they'd always toughed it out. But Daryl would be damned if he let Leigh do the same.

Untying the tourniquet, he tossed it away and took a long look at the gash in her leg. The veins around the wound were discolored, and Daryl knew enough to know that there was a small infection present. Cursing, he picked up a small bottle of rubbing alcohol out of the kit as well as a small cotton applicator.

"This's gonna sting," he warned her as he doused the cloth in alcohol. Leigh gritted her teeth and nodded, biting her lip to hold back a yelp once the alcohol touched her wound. The sting felt more like a burn, a white hot burn that could only be described as excruciating. Daryl muttered apologies over and over again as he continued to soak the wound, hopefully drawing out the infection and whatever dirt and whatnot got inside. When it was cleaned, he tossed the cloth aside and replaced the alcohol in the kit, exchanging it for the suture.

Leigh eyed the needle warily, wondering just how careful Daryl could be with it. He caught her stare and smiled ruefully, as a way of apologizing.

"This prob'ly won't look pretty, but it'll keep the wound closed long enough to heal itself. Sorry if I hurt ya." Nodding, Leigh lay her head back on the seat and bit down on her knuckle as Daryl made his first attempt at stitches.

When he was finished, he stared down at his work. Obviously he was no doctor and had little to no experience with needles and string, but even he had to admit he wasn't bad for a first-timer. The stitches weren't straight in the least—in fact they resembled a small lightning bolt—but he'd successfully closed up the wound. Giving one last swipe of alcohol over the fresh holes, Daryl packed up the kit and let Leigh sit up.

"Not bad, cowboy," she jested as she looked at the stitches. She met his eyes and smiled lightly. "Thanks."

"Not a problem. Can't have you limpin' 'round all the time." A corner of his mouth lifted upwards as he finished packing everything away in the backseat. "Get some sleep. We're headin' out early tomorrow. See if we can't catch up with the others." He shut the door as she lay back, settling into the semi-uncomfortable fabric of Carol's Cherokee.

The driver's side door opened up and Daryl settled himself behind the wheel, propping a foot up on the compartment under the door after he'd closed it.

"Aren't you gonna sleep?" she asked as she turned over onto her side so she could stare at the back of his seat. He didn't turn around as he answered.

"And wake up to a geek gnawin' on my arm? Nah, think I'll risk exhaustion tomorrow. 'Sides, you can drive whenever I get tired." He shrugged and Leigh mimicked the action.

She flipped onto her opposite side, sighing as she sunk further into the seat. She murmured a 'goodnight' and, not even five minutes later, was out like a light. Daryl's blue eyes fell on her in the rearview mirror as she slept. He lifted his hand to his mouth and picked at his thumbnail with his teeth. Dropping it after a few moments, he sighed and looked out the window into the darkness of the forest beyond.

He wasn't sure how he found himself in this situation—stuck with someone who wasn't his brother, weaponless, in an abandoned campsite with few supplies. Oh yeah, he thought darkly, the fuckin' zombie apocalypse. If three months prior someone had told him that he'd be spending his days fighting for his life, he would have whacked them over the head with a beer bottle. As a child, he and Merle and their father hadn't been able to afford cable, but they did have a VCR and a few VHS tapes lying around the trailer. One of them had been _Night of the Living Dead_. The first few times he'd watched it, the zombies had terrified him to the point of nightmares, but after a while, as he grew up, it became one of his favorite monster movies.

At eleven, after the nightmares stopped, Daryl knew that these kinds of beings didn't exist—none of them did. Not the Boogeyman or Dracula or the Wolf Man. The Creature of Black Lagoon was just a fable, a costume and makeup designed to frighten people. Frankenstein was a human creation and, again, just makeup and a costume. But now, some twenty-odd years later, Daryl found himself smack in the middle of his own rendition of _Night of the Living Dead_ without the corny script and cameras around him.

He glanced back in the rearview mirror at Leigh, who may as well have been dead, she was so silent. If not for this zombie apocalypse, he doubted he ever would have met her or the rest of the Atlanta survivors. He knew if Merle were around, his older brother would be shitting on him horribly and excessively about letting a woman take him away from everything he once knew, for making friends with the cop that left him for dead. But the sad—or not so sad, as Daryl was coming to realize—truth of it was, Daryl found himself caring less and less what Merle would think or say as the days went on.

He very rarely heard Merle's chastising voice in his head anymore, criticizing everything he did or said or the way he acted. After a while, after Sophia, Daryl had all but forgotten that his brother was still out there, dead or alive—or undead. As he thought about Merle now, in that dark and silent car, he wondered just how Merle had managed to escape Atlanta without drawing attention; if he was alive, which Daryl fully believed, where was he now? Why hadn't he tried to find his younger brother? If Merle "cared" about him so much like he'd said, why hadn't Merle gone back to the Atlanta camp to both pick a fight with Rick and reunite with his brother? Why had he gone off alone?

Daryl chewed on his thumbnail again, turning a blank gaze to the steering wheel in front of him. He was finding that the longer he went without Merle, the easier it was to find out who he really was, and not who Merle had wanted him to be. With each passing day, Daryl was becoming less and less like his brother and more of his own man.

Leigh and Daryl trekked through the woods as the sun began its descent behind the trees. Leigh's leg hadn't improved, unsurprisingly, and her limp was getting worse. The tourniquet was stained fully red now, but the bleeding had mostly quelled shortly after they began their journey back to camp. Walkers had been absent from the woods for the most part, and the ones they did encounter were few and far between, and they hid easily enough. Daryl hated being without a weapon, especially when Leigh was hurt and her blood was probably stinking up the entire forest. Her face had gone pale from blood loss and she'd had to take more and more breaks than before. Her strength was clearly waning, and he wasn't sure how long she could go on before succumbing to too much blood loss.

"How much further?" she panted as she pressed a hand tightly to her side as cramps set in. They'd been walking almost nonstop since this morning, aside from the many pit stops she'd had to make. Her muscles were screaming in agony, her head was spinning, and she was sure she couldn't walk in a straight line.

"Not sure," came Daryl's short reply, but as he cast a glance at her, his features softened. "Think ya can hold on fer a bit longer?" Sighing, Leigh nodded and leaned against a fallen log. She winced as her muscles fought to relax and looked down at the wound on her leg. Her jeans were stained around the tourniquet and the sight alone nearly made her lose her stomach. Daryl stepped closer to her and brushed a strand of her hair away from her face.

"We need ta keep goin', Leigh. I know it's rough and yer hurtin', but we gotta get back to camp. Sooner we do, sooner we can get ya patched up," he said reassuringly, emphasizing his point with a lingering kiss on her forehead. "Come on, lean yer weight on me."

He helped her to stand as she relieved a sigh and rested her head on his shoulder. Her arm went around his waist and his around her shoulder, and together they hobbled closer to camp.

Just as the sun was disappearing, Daryl tugged Leigh hurriedly into a patch of bushes, hushing her when she opened her mouth in protest.

"Walkers. Big group o' 'em. Stay quiet." That was all she needed to hear as the moans and groans of the walkers drew nearer. Peering through the leaves on the bush, Leigh could make out about twenty walkers coming from their left. One of them lifted its head, which had a sizeable chunk of skull missing, and looked around. It'd apparently picked up the scent of a fresh meal, but it couldn't find the source.

Leigh shifted nervously as the walker circled a tree, its nose in the air and a hungry look in its eye. It turned in their direction and Leigh's blood ran cold. Daryl didn't look at her, but instead gave her hand a reassuring squeeze as his gaze stayed on the walker drawing closer. At the last possible second, it turned and headed for a squirrel that had made the mistake of coming down from its tree. It groaned as it chased after it, urging a few of the others to do the same.

Leigh let out a breath as the walkers gave chase to a measly squirrel, and once the moans and groans had faded to silence, Daryl pulled her to her feet.

"We've got to tell the others there's a herd wandering about when we get back," Leigh stated needlessly. Daryl nodded and resumed his position as her crutch and two hurried off.

The sky was dark by the time the pair reached the camp, though it wasn't late enough for them to go to bed. Leigh exchanged a look with Daryl as they came upon the site, fireless and empty.

"The hell…" Daryl muttered as he went around to each cabin. When he came back, Leigh was hovering over the picnic table, which was littered with various survival items. There was a flashlight, a few canned goods that the group could spare, a few water bottles, soap, a knife, some rope, and a first aid kit that acted as a paperweight for the note underneath.

"They left. They saw the herd and they left." Leigh's voice was stale, emotionless, until she saw the road map on the table with a red circle around their site and a line showing the direction they'd gone. "They let us know where they're headed, at least. And a vehicle." Carol's Cherokee sat in the makeshift driveway idly.

"Can't leave tonight. Need to get you stitched up and rested. We'll head out in the mornin'," Daryl said, scooping up the items on the table and stowing them in the car. "Come on." He helped her into the backseat, minding her injured leg.

"No cabin?" she asked as she lay down across the seat. Daryl shook his head.

"'F that herd wanders back here, we don't want 'em sneakin' up on us. Least in the car, it's safer. Dumbasses can't open doors." He pulled out the first aid kit and opened it. It had a complete suture set, but Daryl had no medical training whatsoever. Whenever he or Merle was injured on a hunting trip, they'd always toughed it out. But Daryl would be damned if he let Leigh do the same.

Untying the tourniquet, he tossed it away and took a long look at the gash in her leg. The veins around the wound were discolored, and Daryl knew enough to know that there was a small infection present. Cursing, he picked up a small bottle of rubbing alcohol out of the kit as well as a small cotton applicator.

"This's gonna sting," he warned her as he doused the cloth in alcohol. Leigh gritted her teeth and nodded, biting her lip to hold back a yelp once the alcohol touched her wound. The sting felt more like a burn, a white hot burn that could only be described as excruciating. Daryl muttered apologies over and over again as he continued to soak the wound, hopefully drawing out the infection and whatever dirt and whatnot got inside. When it was cleaned, he tossed the cloth aside and replaced the alcohol in the kit, exchanging it for the suture.

Leigh eyed the needle warily, wondering just how careful Daryl could be with it. He caught her stare and smiled ruefully, as a way of apologizing.

"This prob'ly won't look pretty, but it'll keep the wound closed long enough to heal itself. Sorry if I hurt ya." Nodding, Leigh lay her head back on the seat and bit down on her knuckle as Daryl made his first attempt at stitches.

When he was finished, he stared down at his work. Obviously he was no doctor and had little to no experience with needles and string, but even he had to admit he wasn't bad for a first-timer. The stitches weren't straight in the least—in fact they resembled a small lightning bolt—but he'd successfully closed up the wound. Giving one last swipe of alcohol over the fresh holes, Daryl packed up the kit and let Leigh sit up.

"Not bad, cowboy," she jested as she looked at the stitches. She met his eyes and smiled lightly. "Thanks."

"Not a problem. Can't have you limpin' 'round all the time." A corner of his mouth lifted upwards as he finished packing everything away in the backseat. "Get some sleep. We're headin' out early tomorrow. See if we can't catch up with the others." He shut the door as she lay back, settling into the semi-uncomfortable fabric of Carol's Cherokee.

The driver's side door opened up and Daryl settled himself behind the wheel, propping a foot up on the compartment under the door after he'd closed it.

"Aren't you gonna sleep?" she asked as she turned over onto her side so she could stare at the back of his seat. He didn't turn around as he answered.

"And wake up to a geek gnawin' on my arm? Nah, think I'll risk exhaustion tomorrow. 'Sides, you can drive whenever I get tired." He shrugged and Leigh mimicked the action.

She flipped onto her opposite side, sighing as she sunk further into the seat. She murmured a 'goodnight' and, not even five minutes later, was out like a light. Daryl's blue eyes fell on her in the rearview mirror as she slept. He lifted his hand to his mouth and picked at his thumbnail with his teeth. Dropping it after a few moments, he sighed and looked out the window into the darkness of the forest beyond.

He wasn't sure how he found himself in this situation—stuck with someone who wasn't his brother, weaponless, in an abandoned campsite with few supplies. Oh yeah, he thought darkly, the fuckin' zombie apocalypse. If three months prior someone had told him that he'd be spending his days fighting for his life, he would have whacked them over the head with a beer bottle. As a child, he and Merle and their father hadn't been able to afford cable, but they did have a VCR and a few VHS tapes lying around the trailer. One of them had been _Night of the Living Dead_. The first few times he'd watched it, the zombies had terrified him to the point of nightmares, but after a while, as he grew up, it became one of his favorite monster movies.

At eleven, after the nightmares stopped, Daryl knew that these kinds of beings didn't exist—none of them did. Not the Boogeyman or Dracula or the Wolf Man. The Creature of Black Lagoon was just a fable, a costume and makeup designed to frighten people. Frankenstein was a human creation and, again, just makeup and a costume. But now, some twenty-odd years later, Daryl found himself smack in the middle of his own rendition of _Night of the Living Dead_ without the corny script and cameras around him.

He glanced back in the rearview mirror at Leigh, who may as well have been dead, she was so silent. If not for this zombie apocalypse, he doubted he ever would have met her or the rest of the Atlanta survivors. He knew if Merle were around, his older brother would be shitting on him horribly and excessively about letting a woman take him away from everything he once knew, for making friends with the cop that left him for dead. But the sad—or not so sad, as Daryl was coming to realize—truth of it was, Daryl found himself caring less and less what Merle would think or say as the days went on.

He very rarely heard Merle's chastising voice in his head anymore, criticizing everything he did or said or the way he acted. After a while, after Sophia, Daryl had all but forgotten that his brother was still out there, dead or alive—or undead. As he thought about Merle now, in that dark and silent car, he wondered just how Merle had managed to escape Atlanta without drawing attention; if he was alive, which Daryl fully believed, where was he now? Why hadn't he tried to find his younger brother? If Merle "cared" about him so much like he'd said, why hadn't Merle gone back to the Atlanta camp to both pick a fight with Rick and reunite with his brother? Why had he gone off alone?

Daryl chewed on his thumbnail again, turning a blank gaze to the steering wheel in front of him. He was finding that the longer he went without Merle, the easier it was to find out who he really was, and not who Merle had wanted him to be. With each passing day, Daryl was becoming less and less like his brother and more of his own man.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: **Holy shit, I finally finished it! Okay first off, I'd like to thank everyone who ever read, reviewed, or even visited this story. All of your feedback has been the main reason I even felt like writing more!

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><p>Rick peered through the binoculars out at the landscape that lay beyond the prison walls. A small herd of walkers, fifteen at the most, was milling around the tree line, though none of them seemed to be very interested in the encampment inside the impregnable walls. For now, Rick felt no need to dispose of them; the group was out of sight and even if sounds carried over the walls, the walkers could not break through either the walls or the doubly-padlocked chain-link fence.<p>

Three weeks prior, after the Atlanta survivors abandoned the cabins in central Alabama. The group had gone long and hard, hitting a large horde of walkers somewhere outside Cheaha State Park. However, the herd was lost quickly and from Talladega the group headed northwest, making a break for Tennessee. Shane was still persistent in arguing Rick's navigational decisions, bent on the idea that by heading further away from civilization, they were, in turn, heading away from any chance at being rescued.

Rick, in his opinion, was leading them to their deaths. The further west they travelled, the more likely food was going to be harder and harder to come by. There was also a greater risk of running into unfriendlies—and rednecks. Shane _hated_ rednecks, as if Daryl wasn't proof enough of that. While he missed the chance of having venison for dinner, Shane was so not prepared at any time to welcome Daryl—or Leigh for that matter—back to the group. The fewer the people standing between him and his survival, the better. Lately, as they headed west, he'd been feeling more and more high-strung—he picked fights whenever he didn't agree with something, even small issues like laundry when they stumbled upon the occasional stream, and his temper seemed to have a shorter and shorter fuse as the days went on. If someone so much as _looked_ at him wrong, Shane was down his or her throat.

This newly-developed attitude did not go unnoticed by the group, least of all by Rick. With every rise and set of the sun, Rick watched as the Shane he used to know disappeared and was replaced by a man he didn't recognize. This new man was coarse and rough and angry at everything. He raised his voice more often than not at the group, even when someone made a simple suggestion. Lately Rick was more inclined to hear everyone else's opinion—Shane, clearly, was not. He'd spoken to Lori about the changes in Shane, and she, too, had noticed that he was becoming angrier and angrier. She worried that he would snap soon should someone make a wrong move. Though Shane spent most of his time now away from the group and on his own, everyone was still slightly on-edge that he would explode and someone would get hurt.

Rick sighed as he lowered the binoculars, letting them hang around his neck. When they'd stumbled across the prison, most of the inmates and guards had become walkers. They were easily taken care of and Rick led a small group inside the building to clear it out. There, they found a well-stocked kitchen and there were enough cells that didn't house a body or two. Those were cleared out and burned with the rest and their former cells were kept quarantined.

This place had become a home to them in the three short weeks they'd been there. Inside, they'd met four prison inmates—Axel, Dexter, Thomas, and Andrew—who welcomed the Atlanta survivors with mostly open arms. While both groups were wary of the other, there were no acts of violence whatsoever—though, as expected, Shane had quite a lot to say about the fact that they were boarding with criminals.

A gun shot threw Rick into alert. Racing down from the tower, he flew down the aisle of C-block and out the doors into the courtyard. Andrea had her gun pointed at the fence, the barrel still steaming.

"What's going on?" Rick asked as he skidded to a stop between her and Dale. Dale adjusted the fisher's hat on his head and sighed.

"Walker tried climbing the fence. Got about halfway up before we noticed him," he replied, his voice tight. Rick looked towards the fence where, beyond that, he could make out the numerous shapes of walkers milling around.

"It got over the first two fences?" he reiterated worriedly. Andrea and Dale exchanged a look and nodded. Cursing, Rick ran a hand over his head, pursed his lips. At the moment, he wasn't too worried. "I don't think we should worry too much just yet. We'll see what happens. If the others start picking up on their ability to climb, then we'll make a decision."

The two next to him nodded again and Rick turned around to head back into the building. Lori was sitting in the Grimes' designated cell with Carl, who had a notebook in his lap. More lessons, Rick thought with a small smile. He leaned against the cell wall and watched his wife and son. His eyes trailed downward to Lori's slightly-protruding belly. Not long after the Atlanta survivors had arrived at the Greene farm, Rick had made the discovery that Lori was pregnant, though, without being able to keep track of the days, it was hard to tell how far along.

At first, they argued; Rick had come across a package of morning-after pills and found Lori sitting by herself and accusations and admissions were made. Lori cried, Rick felt on the verge of doing the same, but after a long, tense silence, he sighed and suggested they put it behind them. While under any other circumstance he'd be ecstatic about being an expecting father for the second time, the new world in which they lived was a harsh place to raise a baby. The Atlanta survivors were now living day to day; now, their future was limited to the next sunrise rather than ten or so years down the road. Every day could be their last. Now, with the added bonus of a baby, everyone, including the baby's parents, would be on edge.

Rick was already worried that the walkers outside the fences would begin to crowd around and eventually push the barriers down. With a baby crying, they'd be spurred even further to get inside. He knew, though, that nothing could be done about it now. With Hershel's help, the baby could be delivered easily and successfully.

It had taken him some convincing, but Rick had been able to talk Hershel into coming with the Atlanta survivors to the prison. After the barn incident, nothing held Hershel to his farm. He no longer saw the walkers as sick people. After Shane had put a number of bullets into the chest of his former neighbor, Louise, and proceeded to massacre the family he kept in the barn, Hershel realized that the people who died and came back were no longer human. They shared the same qualities as animals after death took them and brought them back. They now knew only the primal instinct of survival. Their memories, their humanity, were gone.

Hershel had proceeded to teach the others how to work the land, how to plant seeds and harvest them when the time came. With the added bonus of a well-stocked room inside the prison cafeteria, it seemed the survivors were set for quite some time.

"Hey Rick!" Glenn called as he jogged up to the former cop. Rick looked up at the young man and waved in greeting. "Dale and I think too many walkers are starting to crowd around the fence. I suggested we go out and pick 'em off, but Dale won't without your approval." As if on cue, the older man came up beside Glenn, huffing and puffing a little heavily.

"Well you've got it. I was startin' to get a little worried about them crowdin' the fence and eventually pushin' it over. What're you guys usin' for weapons?"

"Well I've got my axe and I gave Glenn a baseball bat. He can swing it better than I can," replied Dale, waving the former weapon for emphasis. Rick nodded.

"Just be careful, and if things get too hairy you get yourselves out." Glenn and Dale both nodded, and the younger man gave a mock salute. Rick smirked and nodded again, turning away at the same time Dale and Glenn headed out.

"Let's split 'em up," suggested Dale as the pair of them stood at the gate of the fence, donning a couple of riot suits that Glenn had found in the armory. "Keep the gate at your back. If they surround us, we can make a quick getaway. Axel and the guys are ready to close it behind us."

When the Atlanta survivors first arrived at the prison, there had been four inmates left behind—Axel, an older man whose beard reminded most of the survivors of Santa Claus, Dexter, a burly African-American man, Andrew, his younger charge, and Thomas, a nerdy-looking man who'd said he'd been bagged for tax fraud. Not long after arriving, more than a few incidents occurred, resulting in the deaths of both Thomas and Dexter and the disappearance of Andrew. It seemed that Thomas was a shady character to the inmates as well as the newcomers.

Glenn nodded and lowered the visor on his helmet, brandished his shield and baseball bat as if he were a knight back in the Middle Ages. Dale smirked and gave a swift shake of his head at the younger man's enthusiasm.

"What? I've been waiting to get this suit on. Now that I do, I feel indestructible. Like the Hulk."

Dale chuckled, "All right, Hulk. Let's go clear this place out."

While they worked, Dale thought of Leigh and Daryl, which in turn made him think of Andrea. He knew the young woman had been extremely angry that they packed up and left while Leigh and Daryl were still out on their hunt. She was all for survival—not quite as Shane, however—but when it came to leaving two of their own behind in order to do so, that's where she drew the line. That's also what made her and the rest of the Atlanta survivors so different from the former deputy. While Shane was willing to put others at risk to save the ones he loved most—and it was clear to Dale that those people were limited to Lori and Carl only—he stood alone in that aspect. Dale saw it as a reminder of their humanity, that in order to survive they couldn't just abandon someone whenever they saw fit. He himself wasn't pleased with the decision to leave Leigh and Daryl, even if Daryl could be a hot-headed jerk sometimes. Daryl was half the reason the group had even been able to eat. Without his hunting and tracking skills, the survivors were severely lacking in protein that typically came from the meat he brought back. While their appetites were more than satiated every night, nothing beat a meal of venison.

Dale brought his axe down on the head of his fifth walker, grimacing as he yanked the blade out with a sickening squelch and crack of bone. With a moment to rest before the next one came at him, Dale leaned backwards, his free hand on his lower back. Killing walkers was back-breaking work; he wasn't as young as he used to be and it didn't take much nowadays for him to get a crick in his old bones.

He turned his head and looked back towards the prison and then out at the land before him. In a matter of three short weeks, this place had become the closest thing to home that any of the survivors were going to get. Food was readily available, protection was easily acquired, and the company was even better now that Hershel and his family joined the Atlanta survivors. The livestock hadn't been easy to transport since Hershel didn't have any actual horse trailers, and they had to be loaded into the back of a truck with a bed much too small, but it worked. The few cows, horses, and chickens were free to roam around within the inner-most fence and so far there hadn't been a problem.

Things with Andrea were looking up for Dale. Shortly after leaving Hershel's farm, it was inevitable that he and the young blonde would find comfort in each other. After the barn incident, neither of them was the same. While Dale was constantly worried that Andrea would move on—to who, he wasn't sure—because of their age difference, Andrea was quick to quiet him with a stern stare. She constantly reminded him that she loved him and that no other man within a twenty-mile vicinity could make her feel what she felt for Dale. This was always the argument that stopped his complaints.

Meanwhile, Glenn and Maggie's relationship had the same bright future—minus the constant reminder that any of them could be dead in a day. Glenn had spoken to Hershel, whose opinion of the boy seemed to brighten the more he saw Glenn and Maggie together, and he'd given Glenn his blessings and approval of marrying his daughter. However unofficial it was, the ceremony was just what the couple was hoping for—short and simple. Glenn had asked Rick to find a couple of rings they could use, and before most of the walker bodies were burned, he scoured every left hand for silver and gold wedding bands. He'd come up successful, and Carl was their ring-bearer. Children weren't in the newlyweds' near-future, but Maggie was persistent in convincing Glenn that she wanted at least one child before either of them was killed. This was a brooding thought that hung heavy in Glenn's mind, and he realized that Maggie had a distinct point.

He smiled as he recalled two days prior. Maggie had come to him while he was speaking with Hershel about the new crops with news that she was three weeks pregnant. Hershel hugged Maggie and his son-in-law, pleased with the news that he would have at least one grandchild whom he could spoil and love before the Lord called for him.

Glenn sighed as he straightened. His baseball bat was covered in black walker gore, and he knew no matter how hard he scrubbed the light brown color of the wood would not be fully restored. He looked over at Dale, frowning when the old man gave a grunt at his sore back. Glenn had tried to convince Dale to let Shane or Axel take his place, but the older man was ever persistent, claiming if he just sat around with Andrea, she'd talk his ear off. Glenn didn't doubt that at all and so he took Dale's side. Disposing of walkers was something the two of them could keep between each other, something they did together that brought them close. Not as close as their previous situations had, but Glenn had begun to see Dale as an almost father-figure, which was weird to think about when he remembered that he was seeing Andrea. With this new place of refuge, Glenn felt closer to every one of the survivors than he ever had before.

Yes, this place was about as close to perfect that any of them would ever come to again.

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><p><strong>AN:** I know this ends in a rather weird place, but that's because... -drum roll- I plan to write a sequel! I'm not sure when and I'm not sure how long it will be, but there will eventually be a sequel. Following this story I will be working on a new Walking Dead fiction and it's going to be much different from this one. For one, I'm going to better include the perspectives of the other survivors, and I'm also going to lean a few details towards the graphic novels. Of course, it will be another Daryl Dixon fic, but come on, A) he's just too attractive and B) he's fun to write about and it's fun to put him in abnormal situations, no?


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